sexstories.com

Introduction:

A teenage boy's normal struggles with growing up are complicated by his porn brain and pantie fetish, or at least that's what he thinks. There might be more to the story.

Disclaimers: This is a creative, nonfiction story based on actual events. All names, locations and time-lines have
been changed to protect the guilty. I have also added details and events to make it a good story while maintaining
anonymity.

Potential
by Bistander

Chapter 2

The Big Secret in Bubble-butt Heaven

Before you start reading, note: I made some changes. PM me for original version.
Comments, I work for comments, not for free.


The next day at school, Evan scanned the cafeteria before putting his tray on the table and sliding in across from Jason Barnes, his best friend. “Hey,” he said.

“Who you huntin'” Jason said, “that fucken redhead?”

“Her name’s, Darlene.” Evan stuck a straw into his juice container.

“You know, it’s just the thrill of the unattainable? She’s not that good looking. That gap between her front teeth—”

“She’s got a-hell-of-a body,” Evan said. “You see her walk and that ass begs you to stare. She pushes up on her tippy-toes with every step. Jeez, she's got a bubble-butt from bubble-butt heaven, and a rack to die for. She’s got potential.”

“Speaking of butts, how's the Queen of Bubble-butt Heaven.” Jason smirked and glanced around. “Really, the queen and the princess.”

“You lookin' at my little sister now, too?”

Jason shook his head side to side. “No, your mother and Deana. Don’t play dumb with me, I know you look.”

“That's my sister and my mother,” he said. “Jeez, and Deana thinks I'm a pervert.”

“Stepmother, and she’s totally a goddess, and she isn't even thirty yet.”

"Dude, she's married to my father.”

“Yeah, I guess that is kind of a deal killer, but—”

“Kind of a deal killer?” Evan shook his head and tried to redirect the conversation. “Why do you think Darlene doesn't give me the time of day?" He sighed. "I got a get laid, soon."

"Newsflash," Jason said, "there's a hot little gymnast following you around like a puppy dog. Why don't you just bang her? So what if Darlene can suck the chrome off a bumper. Mm, those lips. She does have those lips."

"Hello!" Evan made his eyes big. "Rebecca is my sister's best friend."

"So,” Jason said.

Evan realized he was wasting his time trying to reason with Jason, so he tried again to change the subject. "Hey, those herbs…Wow! Not only bigger, but when I—”

"Easy, TMI." Jason stuffed the last of his sandwich in his mouth. "Just do the tumbler. Imagine the position she can get in. Just hide it from Princess Bubble-Butt."

"Shut up," Evan said. "That's my sister you're talking about."

“So,” Jason said. “Haven't you ever heard of—”

The bell rang and Evan was glad. They grabbed their trays and headed towards the door like cattle.


Last period finally arrived, and Evan was greeted by Mrs. Beck's brilliant smile. "Evan," she said, "you're always early."

Busted. He faked an innocent grinned. "Um, my class before is right there." He pointed behind him in no particular direction. His eyes were glued to her high, round cheeks and brown eyes. Her skin was perfect and her wide mouth was erotic. Did she know he came early to drool over her Asian body?

Evan sat at his desk, stretched out his legs and reached for his crotch. Mrs. Beck was wearing his favorite outfit. Once a month he expected to see the gray slacks that clung to her firm ass, and dipped a little too deep, separating her cheeks. A buzzing in his balls turned quickly to a fire in his groin. He chanced rubbing the length of the cock expanding down his pants leg. Mrs. Beck reached back and grabbed the edge of her desk. Her feet pushed out until her rump rested on the desk. She crossed one foot over the other. Her shoulders pulled back, heaving her chest upward. Her blouse strained over her nipples and her pants squeezed the thickness of her womanhood. He could clearly see the groove that divided her pussy-lips.

Today Mrs. Beck wasn't his teacher. No, she was a gorgeous woman flaunting her sex appeal. She was asking to be the object of his explicit desires. She wanted him to beat off thinking about her. If only—

Darlene's jiggling tits led her swinging ass into the room. Her skirt seem shorter and her erect nipples were trying to bore holes in her shirt. Was she even wearing a bra? He dropped Mrs. Beck for someone he might actually have a shot with.

At the end of class, Evan followed Darlene to her locker without saying a word. She leaned forward for her lock and her skirt lifted, revealing more of her creamy-white thighs. He stepped close to her and took a deep breath. "Darlene."

Without looking back, she said, "Are you staring at my ass?"

Dammit! Think fast. "Yes, yes I am." She straightened and turned to face him. He added, "It's hard not to."

"Thank you, Evan," she said. “See you tomorrow." She slammed her locker and walked away.

"Whatever." He turned without looking up from the floor.


In the parking lot, Evan found Deana sitting on the hood of his car with her legs straight out. Her skirt was pulled up dangerously close to her crotch. "Why are you on my car?" he said. "The paint!"

"Easy," she said, and dropped her feet and slid off the fender. "I was getting some sun. My poor legs need color."

“Come on, lets go,” he said.

"What, still can't get the redhead to bounce on your—"

“Deana!” He put his hand over her mouth. “You're my sister, we don't talk about things like that.” He opened his door.

"Just tell me what happened," she said, ducked in the car and crawled across the front seat.

"Oh, jeez." Why did he have to see her underwear when they were the ones with red hearts? “I rather not talk about it." He got in the car. “I don't get girls.”

“That's just because we think about things other than sex,” Deana said. “Darlene is a complicated girl.”

“Complicated?” he said, and started driving. “All I've ever been is nice to her. I thought she was playing hard to get, but maybe she just thinks I'm ugly.”

“Oh, lord,” Deana said. “First of all, you're not ugly. You know how many of my friends are into you?”

“Great, that's great,” he said. “You think maybe you could be friend's with Darlene?”

“Probably not,” Deana said. “You know she's seeing a guy who's not even in school.”

Evan sighed. So, does that mean somebody can't be nice to her? Besides, I heard he treats her like shit.”

Deana smiled, her black eyebrows arching. “Not every girl wants to be treated nice. She might have issues. You know she's a foster kid?”

“Ah, I guess I knew that, but never thought it'd make her unfriendly.”

“She's not unfriendly,” Deana said. “She just has some issues.”

“How do you know so much about her?”

“Ouch, ouch, ouch,” Deana groaned, kicked off her shoe and turned sideways in her seat. “Help!” She put her foot in his lap. “I don't know her.”

“For someone who never even runs, you sure get a lot of cramps.” He grabbed her foot, pressed his thumb into the ball and started working it. “You sound like you know her.”

Deana leaned back on the door. “I run in gym class and I played volley ball and she's part of the club, so I don't have to know her, to know her.”

“Jeez, what club is that, the double talking evil wenches club?” he said. “And you only played volley ball so you could get out of softball.” His fingers rolled her toes. The nails were painted pink.

“Girls club,” Deana said, “and we're not evil, just more complicated than boys.”

“Yeah, I guess, you Jane, me Tarzan.”

“Mmmm, that feels good,” she said. “Forget all that for a minute and imagine we were given up for adoption or put in a foster home when mom died. What if we went to different homes. What if we just met now for the first time? I wonder if Darlene had any brothers or sisters.”

He drove on, mindlessly playing with her toes, considering her question. It was something he'd never given any thought to. He tried to never think about their real mother. “You have nice feet,” he said.

“Thanks,” she said, “but don't change the subject. What if we got shipped off some place, then got separated. We might have forgotten each other.”

“No chance,” he said. “There's noway I could have forgotten the things you put me through.”

“Yeah, whatever, but you get my point,” Deana said. “Darlene has gone through things you can't even imagine. Imagine every time she dates somebody she has to worry about if it could be a brother she never knew she had?”

Evan stopped rubbing his sister's foot. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind. “Are you saying she's not into me because she thinks I'm her brother?”

Deana raised one brow and squinted her other eye. “I think she'd be able to rule that out. Italians don't make redheads like Darlene. What I'm getting at is, Darlene is more complicated than the other girls you've been banging.”

“Deana, jeez, why do you say things like that!” he said. “As far as you know, I've never been, 'banging,' as you crudely put it, anyone.”

His sister's smile was telling, and a little frightening. “Okay, whatever you say,” Deana said. “If you want to 'Be nice' to Darlene, like you were being nice to Stacey, then I suggest you learn more about her. She's not like anyone you've ever been into before.”

Evan wondered how much his sister really knew about Darlene. “Seems like you know her better than you're saying.”

“I'm more perceptive than you, that's all.”

“I'm perceptive...about things,” he said.

“Not to change the subject, don't you wish we knew more about mom and had pictures of us and her when we were little? Why do you think dad won't even talk about it or show us pictures?”

He thought about it for a minute. “I don't know, I guess he doesn't want to think about it.”

Deana waited until Evan pulled into their driveway to speak, “But we think about it. More like keeping something from us.”

She opened her door. “Why don't you see about getting mom to dig some pictures up, she must have some.”

Evan sat there until Deana reached the porch. She had given him plenty to think about.


In the kitchen, Evan found Deana talking at light speed. “Your Highness,” he said, holding Deana's bag in the air, “here.” He dropped her bag on a chair. She ignored him.

“Hi, Mom,” he said. If he wasn't careful, “Candy” could still slip out. Last time it happened his father slapped him up-side the head and said, “She's my wife and that makes her your mother. Don't let it happen again.”

Candy said, “Hi, Honey,” while nodding at Deana's verbal brain dump.

He kissed her cheek and headed for the bathroom.

After double checking that the bathroom door was locked, Evan flipped the lid up on the hamper. There was something about the feel of a girl's panties on his bear flesh that made his cock surge to life. He used the underwear to dig his balls out of his pants. Would Jason rub his sister's underpants on his dick?

The crotch was pungent and it made him dizzy. He tried to picture Mrs. Beck or Darlene, but Candy's tits kept flashing through his mind. They're so big and firm, and he remembered them when she was a pregnant teenager with huge, swollen nipples. She went bra-less back then when his parents weren't home. Maybe that's why he loved big tits so much?

He slid the soft panties up and down his boner. Deana's foot on his lap had triggered an unwanted erection, and no matter how hard he'd tried, her heel kept touching it. Had she notice? No, she would have pulled away and called him a pervert, or worse.

He came quickly, but kept pumping his dick with the wet, slippery material. He needed to fuck a real girl again, soon, or he'd go insane. Why did Stacey Bauer have to move to Michigan? They had a wonderful year together. She was as horny as he was, but as soon as they'd gotten into a routine, she was gone. They'd fucked like horny teenagers, but he wished they had more time to find new places and explore new positions. Mostly, they did it on her bathroom floor because that was the only place they could hide from her kid brother, but once he'd talked her into doing it standing up against a tree behind her house.


Darlene got off the school bus and separated herself from the other kids. She wasn't a loner, but she didn't fit in with her peers. Not because she felt superior, it was just that she was years ahead of them in experience and suffering.
She paused in front of the Anderson's house and thought about their Irish setter, Boy George. She hoped Mrs. Anderson would still want her to babysit Jesse on Friday? Jesse was an easy kid to watch. They had an understanding, and the Anderson's had high-speed Internet.

When Darlene reached her trailer, she was disappointed to see that her Mother Fuckers' car was out front. Mother Fucker, that's how she referred to her foster father. Her foster mother wasn't much better. None of the foster families had ever been what she imagined real parents would be. At least this mother fucker didn't want to fiddle with her, not yet.

Without saying hello to the man sitting on the couch, Darlene went down the hallway to her room. She fell backwards onto a beanbag chair. Styrofoam balls floated up into the rays of sunlight that cut through the dusty air. Evan had annoyed her yesterday, but today he pissed her off. In elementary school, he called her names, but she didn't hold that against him. Boys acted stupid at that age when they got around girls with breast. What made her mad was that he wanted her to be his girlfriend. He'd want to go steady, take her places and have her meet his parents—his step mother. She picked up a pair of scissors and rammed them into her teddy bear. He was rich, strong and cute, but she could never be his girlfriend. Why couldn't he just want to fuck her like everybody else?


At Evan's House The American Rejects pounded the speakers and Evan pounded the heavy bag. His dad had pissed him off at dinner, he had no chance with Darlene and Deana had stirred up memories. He didn't want to think about their real mother, Sandra, she was gone, and Candy was their mother now. “Candy, Candy, Candy,” he said in defiance. His father had replaced their mother with his Candy.

Evan kicked and stumbled backwards. “Damn it,” he shouted, “Deana, what the—”

“Sorry,” she said, with her hands out in front of her. “If you didn't have that crap blasting you would have heard me.”

“Crap?” He pushed the stop button on the player. “It's better than Carrie Underwear or Fergalicious.”

She put her fists on her hips and shifted her weight to the right. “At least you can dance to my music.”

Despite his best effort, he smiled. “Maybe you can, but I can't dance.”

“If you're nice to me, maybe I'll teach you.”

“Yeah, whatever,” he said. “What do you want anyway?”

Deana adjusted the towel turban on her head. “I came out of the shower and saw the light on down here, so I—”

“Dee,” he said, looking her up and down, “it's obvious where you came from.” Most of her long, olive legs were exposed and shined with the lotion she just coated them with. The smell made him uncomfortable.

“Dee?” she said. “You never call me that anymore.”

“Yeah, so,” he said.

“It reminds me of when we were kids,” she said. “Anyway, I thought you might be upset that dad said no about racing, again.”

“I am. I don't get him. Cindy races, but I can't?”

Deana crossed her feet and wiggled her toes. “Cindy is his niece and...” She trailed off and put her hands in the small of her back. “I don't know. You know how he is.”

“Phew, don't I.” He flopped backwards onto the couch. “Dee, get a bigger towel, or why not wear a robe.”

“Yeah, I know,” she said, and sat next to him. “You sound like dad. It's no big deal. Who cares anyway?”

He looked at her folded leg and realized how close he was to seeing her goodies. “Well, I don't,” he lied, “but dad would kill you if he caught you down here with me...in that.”

Deana furrowed her brows. “Well imagine he'd seen us when we were kids, when Candy was the babysitter and she'd let us go naked if we wanted to.”

“He'd have a heart attack if he knew what she let us get away with,” he said. “Those were the days, the good ole days. You got me thinking about them today.”

“I bet you wish she'd still go without a bra, in those skimpy shorts and tank-tops.”

“Deana,” he said, “she's our mother...now.”

“Yeah, like that changes how hot she is,” Deana said.

“What's wrong with you?” he said.

“I ask myself that all the time,” she said. “Suppose she wasn't our step-mom?”

“She is, so there's really no point in supposing.”

“You have no imagination.”

“I guess not,” he said. “You always were the one who came up with things to get us in trouble. You know, we did some weird stuff. I haven't thought about it for years, but it was strange. How did we even know about those things?”

“It was just normal kid stuff, exploring,” she said. “We'll laugh about it when we're old.”

“Glad we grew out of it,” he said. “You better go upstairs before you get us in trouble, again.” He watched her until she was halfway up the stairs. “You have nice legs.”

“Thanks,” Deana said, with a giggle.


After a long night of odd dreams and ceiling staring, Evan yawned his way through morning classes, and finally it was lunch time.

"What's going on," Jason said, and sat down at the lunch table across from him. "Why you sittin' way over here in the corner?"

"Privacy, why else," Evan said.

"Whoa," Jason said. "We're good friends, but not that good."

"Shut up!" Evan said.

"Just wanted to be sure. I know how desperate you are," Jason said. "So, what is it? Did you make progress with the Redhead?"

"Ah, not really, but I will," Evan said. He wasn't concerned about Darlene, it was the underwear thing, but he wasn't sure how to start a conversation about jerking off in his sister's panties. He'd have to feel Jason out. “What's the most twisted thing you've ever
done? Is it that thing we never talk about, or something more twisted?”

Jason's head turned like he expected to see somebody with a video camera. “We shouldn't even mention that there is a thing that we don't talk about.”

"Of course.” Evan knew his friend well enough to suspect he had done something worse than the thing they didn't mention. “Let me ask you something then, but it has to be between us, and only us.”

“Say no more, I'm a vault of secrecy." Jason pulled an imaginary zipper across his lips.

"Would you ever sniff a girl's panties?" Evan asked.

Jason smirked. “What do you think?”

"I think you have,” he said. “Your sister's, right?”

“No,” Jason said, “no, I haven't, but you have.”

“I've never even seen your sister's underwear,” he lied.

“Not my sister, your sister,” Jason said. “Mm, mm, Deana's panties. Yummy.”

“Shut up, Jackass,” Evan said. “I never said I did, I just wanted to know if you thought it would be weird if somebody did.”

Jason leaned in and whispered, "If I lived with your sister, I'd do more than sniff her panties. What about your mom's, you ever sniff hers?"

“Jeez, why did I think I could ask you about something like this, when you let a—”

"Hey, we don't talk about that. It was just a one time thing. I wasn't looking for it, it just happened."

“Yeah, okay,” Evan said.

“So, you jerk off in your sister's panties?" Jason said. “You wanta do her, don't you?”

"No, no I don't. They're just underpants," Evan said. “They could be anyone's. I don't think about Deana or anything, I just smell them.”

"Sure, you're smelling your hot sister's sweet pussy, beating off and cumming where her pussy was, and you're not thinking about her?” Jason said.

Evan felt his face burning. “I never said I came in them, and I definitely don't think about her. I think about Mrs. Beck or Stacey or Darlene.”

“Listen,” Jason said, “I'm certainly not anyone to judge. You do what you think is right, but I'm serious, Deana's hot and being she can't date, and you live with her, it's perfect. She needs you, and you need it bad, right?”

“You're only saying that because you think she's hot and that's what you wanta do,” Evan said. “If it was your sister, you wouldn't be saying that.”

“Um,” Jason said, rubbing his chin, “maybe. Hey, can I get a pair of your mom's?"

"No." Evan buried his face in his hands. "My mother's panties are off limits."

"Fine," Jason said. "What about Deana's?"

"Jason!"

"Gloria's?"

"Get your own sister's panties."

"Becky, she doesn't wear underwear."

Evan tried not to think of Becky going bare-ass. He tried not to think about Becky at all. She was his best friend's sister and she had issues. He tried to ignore her, but after seeing her fingering herself right in their living room that was hard. He should have turned away, but she didn't know he was there, so he spied on her until she came. “Forget I ever mentioned panties.”

“What if your mom checks the laundry?” Jason said. “You know, sorts, separates, and busts you for shooting—”

"Oh my God,” Evan said, “that would be bad, really bad."

"Oh yes, I knew you did it. You came in Gloria's underpants. I can hear your mom now, 'Evan, can you please explain this crusty stuff in Gloria's underwear?'"

“I never mentioned Gloria, or her underpants, now will you drop it.”


Hours later, while waiting for Deana in the parking lot, Evan was still thinking about his mom doing the laundry. Surely she wouldn't examine each item. But what if she already knew what he had been doing? He opened his car door and tried to think about something else. Darlene had paused by his desk, but didn't say anything. She looked as unhappy as she'd been the day before. He didn't bother trying to talk to her after class.

In an effort to avoid thinking about the potential for the ultimate embarrassment, Evan went on a trip down memory lane. He thought about the world's most embarrassing moment, for Jason, and the glue that secured their trust. He'd have to do something worse than jack-off in Deana's panties to pull even with Jason.

Three years earlier, they had been riding their bikes on a hot, humid day. Jason suggested they go to the creek for a swim. Evan brought up their lack of swim-suits, but Jason assured him that he knew a spot they could go and it wouldn't matter. He also promised it would be exciting, that he'd done it before. Evan was easily influenced.

They rode their bicycles to Doc Davey's Farm. The farmer had become more docile with age and wasn't likely to shoot them with his pepper rifle if he caught them on his property. They made their way back behind the barn, where Jason showed him the trail that led through the woods, down to the creek. “It's the perfect spot,” Jason promised.

Once they reached the water, Evan agreed. It was a narrow section where the river curved and was divided by an island. Most people wouldn't bother sneaking through Doc Davey's property when there were hundreds of other places to swim. All the boat traffic passed on the far side of the island, so they had a two-hundred yard section of water that was perfect.

Jason was also right about getting naked in public. Even in that remote place, it was exciting. Evan fought the urge to sport wood when they stripped. Once in the water, he gave up the fight. The contrast of the hot sun and the cool water rushing over his sensitive cock and balls was amazingly arousing. He'd always like being naked after his bath. Back then, he'd only been slightly curious about Deana's differences, and he never had to worry about popping a boner.

Instinctively, they swam in different directions. Evan ended up on the island, which amounted to a thin strip of land covered with trees and thick undergrowth. He found his way to the other side, where he became more aroused at the sight of boaters passing by. He stayed just out of sight, watching two women in bikinis standing on the bow of a boat. He started a fantasy while staring at them. His dick was fully erect, but he resisted the urge. If Jason caught him, then he'd be humiliated for the rest of his years in school. Getting caught beating off was the worst thing that could happen to a boy.

After a minute or two, he gave up and spit on his hand then started stroking. He finished quickly, and immediately felt embarrassed. What if his friend had seen him?

Jason was nowhere to be found, so Evan went looking for him. He didn't know his friend didn't want to be found. Evan's heart stopped, then sped up to a dangerous speed. Jason was standing against a tree stroking a giant, uncircumcised penis.
Evan wasn't gay, and didn't want to watch someone jerk off, but he ducked down out of sight anyway. He'd never seen one so big, but that wasn't what made him get hard.

The giant purple dome of Jason's dick-head emerged from the foreskin cloak. Jason pushed it down towards the lapping tongue of Doc Davey's yellow lab. The tail-wagging dog eagerly licked while Jason stroked. He pushed his groin forward, lifted his cock and offered his ball-bag to his four-legged friend. She seemed thrilled, and licked his bouncing nuts.

Jason groaned, and aimed the swollen bulb at her face. The first burst of white cream flew the length of the dog and crashed down on the leafy earth, but the next blast was on target. Jason jerked and moaned, pumping his penis onto the licking tongue of his bitch.

Evan probably wouldn't have let his friend know he'd seen the depraved act if he hadn't fallen backwards over a log while his boner sprayed cum. Their friendship was bonded in mutual humiliation.

The spot-light fell on Jason's inappropriate behavior for obvious reasons, but Evan had been equally ashamed. The donkey sized penis and the bestiality had fucked up his mind. It was so wrong to have gotten excited ,and worse, he wanted to know how it felt, but only really twisted people let dogs lick their balls while they masturbated.

Deana's voice jerked him out of the past and back to the parking lot. “It's about time,” he said. She was walking with Rebecca, one of the tumbling triplets. "Where are the other two tumblers?" he asked Rebecca.

"They're not riding with us," Deana said.

Rebecca crowded him into the corner of the open door. "Are you ever going to stop calling us that?" she asked. "We do more than tumble."

He looked down at her. The sunlight on her head brought out a rusty tint in her brown hair. Her big green eyes and her long lashes hinted at an older, sexy girl, but the sprinkling of freckles down her button-nose reminded him she was Deana's cute friend. "Probably not," he finally answered.

"Figures." She huffed and pushed the seat forward. "My birthday is coming up. You gonna get me something special?"

Evan watched her lean into the backseat. "Yes," he said, and whacked her behind.

"Ouch." She yelped and fell into the car. "Not what I had in mind."

He tuned out the girl's talk and drove; his thoughts on his mother, Candy, and his birth mother, Sandra. Would it be less embarrassing to have Candy, his step-mom, find his crusty cum in Deana's underwear? Probably not.


At Rebecca's house, Deana opened her door and Rebecca slid across the backseat. Evan shoved Deana's seat forward and crushed his sister against the dashboard. Rebecca's skirt climbed her thighs and he took a long look. Her flowered underpants hugged her pussy, creating a vivid outline of her lips and the groove between them. It was what he and Jason called a fat pussy, which was a good thing.

"Hurry up,” Deana said, “he's killing me. I'll call you later."

"Okay," Rebecca said.

Evan let his sister's seat fallback. Driving her friends had some perks. Rebecca's pussy was amazingly plump for such a skinny girl. His penis was hard.

Once they got going, Deana asked, "Is it really that bad having to drive us?" She batted her eyes at him. "Really, it could be worse."

"Mm, I guess so," he said, “but I wish you could get a car too.”

Deana laughed. "Yeah, like that'll happen. By the way, I totally busted you peeking in the backseat, pervert." She put her feet on the dashboard. “Don't get any ideas about Rebecca.”

If she knew how hard he was, she'd really think he was a pervert. He didn't look her way or complain about her feet. “I know, it'll mess everything up and hurt your friendship...blah, blah.” He couldn't get Rebecca's crotch out of his mind.


At the house, they climbed the porch steps together. He opened the back door and they both froze. "Mom," Deana said, and stepped inside. "You look, um, Fergalicious!"

Evan approached the hourglass shaped woman with his mouth hanging open. He searched his brain for words, but none came. Candy was barely above five-feet, but those three inch heels and short skirt made her legs look amazingly long. He was glad none of his friends, especially Jason, were there to see. Before puberty, having the youngest, prettiest mom was something to be proud of. Now it was embarrassing, and disturbing because of his thoughts.

Candy put her hands on Deana's shoulders and gave her a kiss. "Thank you,” she said. “I think?"

"Don't worry, Mom," he said, "it's a compliment." He kissed her cheek and noticed the way her breasts strained the buttons on her blouse. "You look—”

"Just say it,” Deana said, “she's hot."

"Yeah.” He turned away. “I'll be back."

Evan ignored Gloria calling his name as he passed her room and started unzipping before he reached the bathroom. Seeing Rebecca's crotch had packed the powder keg and his mom's body and engorged nipples had lit the fuse. There was a limit to how much he could take in before he blew out.

"Oooh," he gasped, and closed his eyes. His lubricated fist coursed down his hard flesh. Rebecca's pussy crushed under her tight panties filled the video screen in his head. She wanted him to look, just like Mrs. Beck knew what she was doing to him. Why else would she have lingered there with her camel toe so obvious? But what about Candy? When was the last time he saw his mom dressed up like that?

He watched in the mirror. His bulbous cock-head was a blur as it vanished and reappeared from his fist. His balls rolled and danced in his sack with pleasure, but something was missing. “Dammit," he said, and looked past his lotion slicked cock into the hamper. Baby-blue panties were staring back at him, mocking. He knew it was wrong but he picked them up anyway. His mom most likely wouldn't be examining underwear before she washed them. Who would do that?

Gloria's crotch-patch was moist, even warm, like she'd just taken them off. It's underwear, only underwear, so it doesn't matter whose they are. He breathed in through his nose and trembled. Like a chloroform rag forced over his face, the smell of pussy made him dizzy, and a lust fog clouded his mind. Pussy smelled so good to him. Did that mean something was wrong with him?

The switch flipped so fast that he was caught off guard by the first blast of his orgasm. Cum flew all the way to the magazine rack. He turned sharply and sent a splattering shot against the mirror, then another. Finally, he got the underwear in front of his dick head and pumped, milking it, pushing every last drop into the panties, into her cunt. That was it, wasn't it? He was fucking his sister. No, it's just underwear, he told himself again.

Evan was still shaky when he left the bathroom and approached Gloria's door. She was sitting on the end of her bed playing a hand-held video game and listening to her MP3 player. “Hi,” he said, and picked up her softball bat. “What's up?” He put the bat under the bed and sat next to her. “What are you listening to?” He pulled one of her ear-buds out.

“Hi,” she finally said, without looking away from the screen.

He put the bud close to his ear. “Gloria, you know what this song is about?” It was Laffy Taffy, by DL 4.

“Candy,” she said, and switched off the game. “Why?”

“Hmm, not really,” he said. “Don't let mom or dad hear it.”

“Daha,” she said. “I know what it's really about.”

“Oh, really.” He reminded himself that she wasn't his Baby-girl anymore. “Does that game help with math?”

“I got an A on my math test today”

“Wow, remarkable,” he said. “Good thing I helped you with your homework.” He messed her hair. “So, what did you want?”

“We're supposed to practice ball.” She pouted and added, “Dad said I'm afraid of the ball.”

“I'd be afraid too if I let a ball hit me in the forehead.” He snickered. “You couldn't see straight for a week.”

“Stop it,” she said, and slapped his thigh. “It wasn't my fault.” She hung her head and added, “I hate softball.”

“Really, why?”

“I'm too small. All the other girls are way taller.” She folded her arms over her chest. “Why does dad make me play?”

“Same reason he made me and Deana play. It builds character and keeps you out of trouble.” He turned her head. “Between you and me, you're the best looking girl on the field. One day, they'll all be tall and ugly, and you'll be short and gorgeous, like your mother.”

“That'll be the day,” she said. “For now all I got is too much for my age.” She stood in front of him. “Paula said I'll have floppy jugs before I'm twenty. Do you think they're too big?” She pushed them together.

He wished he hadn't just cum in her underwear. Her nipples were clearly visible through the shirt. “That's not the kind of question you ask your brother.”

“Who better to ask,” she said. “You've seen me everyday since I was born and probably watched mom change my diaper. Wow, that's weird, you've seen all of me.”

“It sure is weird that we're talking about this. You were a baby and I was too young to know what I was seeing,” he said, wondering if his face was as red as it felt. His dad was right, she was too old for them to act the way they always had.

“Still, you see me in bathing suits and towels. Am I gonna have floppy boobs before I'm twenty?”

His little sister was more developed than Deana and all her friends, but considering her mother's body, that wasn't a surprise. “They're just jealous,” he said. “They'd kill to have what you got, but they know they're never gonna have a bodacious body like yours. Jeez, just look at your mother and imagine one day, that's gonna be you. You're blessed.”

You're a boy, of course you'd say that. The girls talk about me.”

“I'm a connoisseur of women, and I say you got it going on.”

“Cona what?”

“It means I look at lots of women, and I know what looks good,” he said, “and you look good.”

Her cheeks reddened. “Thank you.”

“Let's go practice,” he said, wishing he didn't know she was going commando under her shorts.


Later at Jason's House
Jason gave up on his homework and flipped on his TV. He needed to get Deana's panties and pussy out of his mind before he did something he'd regret. If he was Evan, he would definitely be doing things with Deana's panties, and more. Deana was beautiful and sexy, yet she acted like any average girl, which made her ten-times more gorgeous. Too bad her father didn't let boys near her, except Evan. He was in the perfect position, he lived with her, saw her in towels, in her underwear and probably naked if he tried. What a waste, he thought, Evan and his morals.

Evan knew about the dog, but what if he knew everything? Would they still be best friends?

Jason let his mind wander to his sister, Becky.

Becky wasn't like his friend's sister's. She did things that disturbed their mother, and fascinated him. She did that thing two year old kids did, taking off their clothes and walking around naked, years beyond when it was considered funny. When they played outside and other girls had to go home to use the bathroom, Becky just pissed on a tree standing up like the boys. She'd also walk into the bathroom while he was already in there and take a piss. He loved the way she stood up and peed, but their mother didn't.

When they played doctor or house or whatever kids called their exploration, they had a hideout in the woods, a hallow spot at the center of a massive cluster of azalea bushes. It was innocent curiosity, show me yours and I'll show you mine, but show me turned to touch mine and I'll touch yours, then... Innocence was lost.

They knew what they were doing was wrong, but only in a general way. Every kid learns not to show or touch down there, but they don't understand incest. For no reason he could remember, other than they grew out of it, they stopped playing their games and never mentioned them again, like it hadn't happened, but it left a permanent mark on his psyche. Those games probably opened a door into the dark places he went when he was...

One night, he slipped into Becky's room. Becky had those girl curves, but she didn't realize it and hadn't adjusted the way she dressed or carried herself. Maybe if they hadn't already done those things he wouldn't have noticed, but they had, and he did. She taunted him daily with her developing tits and ass.

Becky was sleeping on her stomach without covers, her face buried in a pillow. Her legs were partially open and her loose shorts allowed him to peek at the pale flesh close to her crotch. His erection was instantaneous. He wanted to slip his finger into the leg-hole and feel her pussy. His hands trembled while taking his boner out of his underwear. Becky's butt had outgrown her thin frame and her cotton shorts hugged the hills of her cheeks and dipped deep into the crease between them. He wanted to see it, that's all.

Jason held his breath while his fingers pinched the elastic waist band and eased his sister's shorts down. Half an inch and her hip bones were revealed. Another inch and the start of her ass crack was visible. Her summer tan was golden brown and it made the white flesh of her rump standout like a full moon. He tugged gently, side-to-side and stretched the elastic until it was below her ass, but still stuck in the front under her body. He released the waistband and it squeezed around the cushion of her butt, lifting and spreading her cheeks. He could see the pink ring of her anus and he started pulling on his cock, working the foreskin over his sensitive knob. He got close enough to feel the heat of Becky's body on his cock. He knew it was bad, wrong, really wrong, but he couldn't stop stroking his dick. He pressed the crown into the valley of her cheeks. The contact with his sister's warm flesh changed everything and he lost what little control he had.

The orgasm he hadn't really planned for went off. A blast of hot cream ricocheted and struck her shoulder. He panicked and pulled his cock away, only to finish spraying his load all over her butt, back and bed. His juices ran down from her anus towards her pussy-lips. He stared at the mess he'd made, knowing there was noway to repair the damage. He eased Becky's shorts back and left her.

The next morning Becky told him she wasn't mad, like she should have been, instead, she was mad he hadn't woken her up
first. They started hiding out again, but now their games had a different ending...

For three months they got away with it, but all good things must come to an end. His mother had cried like somehow it was her fault. Becky pretended to be asleep and he took the blame. His mother told him he could never do anything like that again. "You're the man of the house now that your father is gone. You have to help me take care of things, your sister.

You can't be doing things like that. Please, Jason, please..." He convinced her it was the first, the only time, and it would never happen again.

Jason had been frightened by what his mom said about what happens to people who engage in incest and retarded babies and what everyone would say about them, but making her cry had traumatized him. He convinced Becky that they should never do it again. For the last three years he had watched her body mature, yet hadn't touched her. It was pure hell.


Evan's House
At the dinner table, Evan turned his head back-and-forth from his dad to his mom. Deana was right, their mom looked hot, but their father hadn't appeared to notice. All he did was talk about work and the schedule for next week. Then, he brought up racing, and how Cindy, “Finally came to her senses and decided to go to college.”

Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but Evan couldn't help himself. “Dad,” he said, “Cindy is one of the top drivers in the Southeast. She's a star...The next Danica. Why would she go to college now?” Psychology, he thought, why would his cousin give up racing for psychology.

His father stopped chewing for a second, then continued. Finally, he gulped his wine and said, “Because it's the right thing to do.”

Evan waited, then said, “But Dad.”

His dad put his elbows on the table. “But nothing. She made a choice about her future.” He paused, his index fingers formed a steeple poking into his chin. “My sister never wanted Cindy to race anyway,” His eyes narrowed, “and you could learn something from your cousin.”

Evan waited for more, but nothing came. His father went back to eating and he knew he'd never change his mind. Cindy had been the only one in his corner. She'd encouraged him to believe in his dreams, told him not to fold under the opinion of others. He'd already learned from her. She taught him everything about racing, how to kick-box and so many other things, and now she was throwing in the towel and killing his dream.


Later that evening, Evan knocked on Deana's door, then opened it. She spun around on her desk chair. “Who is it?” she said. “That's when you're supposed to say, 'Evan' and wait for me to say, 'come in or get the'—”

“I'm sorry,” he said, and sat on her bed. “I really need–”

“When will I be old enough to have a lock on my door?”

“Hmm, when you buy your own house,” he said. “Isn't that what dad told us?”

“Ya-know?”

“Yeah, I do know. I live here too.”

“But I'm a girl. I need privacy.” She put her hands on her chest. “Things are changin'.”

“They…ah, sure are.” They'd been changing for a long time. He felt his face warm. “But that's not why I'm here.”

Deana squinted one eye and tilted her head. “So, if you didn't come to sneak a peek at my lovely lady lumps, what is it?”

“Jeez.” He fell back on his elbows. “Can you believe dad? Doesn't he know it's my dream? I love racing! I've got a great opportunity to drive that car and if I prove myself, I could maybe take over Cindy's car when she leaves for college.” He felt his eyes burning.

“Why don't I have a say? A choice? It's my life.”

When he looked at his sister, her elbows were on her thighs and her chin was in the palms of her hands. Her fingers were strumming her cheeks. “I'm sorry,” she said. “I don't either. I feel your pain.” She got up and laid on her back next to him. “I'm almost...and I've never had a serious boyfriend.”

He listened to her, and thought she might be crying, so he held her hand, like when they were little. He never liked to see her cry. “Is everything okay?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “I just, ah, I feel bad for you, for us, that's all.” She squeezed his hand.

He knew there was more going on, he could feel her distress, but he didn't pry. “You ever need to talk, I'm here for you.”

“I know,” she said. “We've always been there for each other.”

“It's weird being connected the way we are,” he said.

“Weird?” Deana squeezed his hand again and looked at him. “We're twins, what do you expect.”

“You're a girl and, um, I'm not, that's all.”

“No, you definitely aren't, and it's a little weird for me too, but I'm glad you're my brother. It made it easier when mom died and dealing with dad. I wish I could remember how things were back then...when mom was alive. Was he the same back then?”

“I don't know,” he said. “Candy, mom, I remember her always being there and making it easier. I hope she has some pictures.” Evan wasn't glad that his father married their babysitter turned nanny, but at least they didn't lose her too.

“She's great, but once they got married everything changed,” she said.

“She'd let me race.”

“She'd let me wear make-up and date, but dad...” Deana's voice faded out.

“Yeah, you're right, I'm screwed,” he said, and blew out a long breath.

Deana said, “Talk to Cindy. You know how smart she is. She might be able to help. Heck, Aunt Julia isn't much different than dad, and Cindy got to wear make up, date and race.”

“Hmm, maybe, but Uncle JC is totally different from dad and Aunt Julia. He's so southern.”

They laid there another thirty minutes, talking about their father, Gloria and how things were changing so fast. Their junior year was coming quickly to a close and neither of them admitted to knowing what they wanted to do with the rest of their lives. Evan didn't tell Deana his fallback plan if racing didn't work out.

“Thanks for listening,” he said, and got up. “You're all right...for a sister.”

“You too,” she said, “I mean as a brother.”

He walked to the door, then looked back. Deana was still flat on her back, but her legs were lifted straight out off the end of the bed. He asked the question with his eyes and a chin gesture.

Deana's face showed strain. “I may not do gymnastics, but I have to mind my lumps, my humps, my lovely lady lumps.”

He smiled, thinking about Bubble-Butt Heaven. “It's working,” he said, then quickly changed the subject. “What's up with Mom? That outfit today was, um, you know.”

Deana grinned and arched her eyebrows. “My guess...she's trying to get a little–“

“Stop, I can't hear you.” He put his hands over his ears. “I don't even think about those things.” He left Deana's room, thinking about them doing it, and it made him angry.

Candy had felt sexy, and she knew Evan had noticed, but John hadn't. She dried off and pulled her hair into a ponytail, then slipped into her new robe. The purple silk caressed her flesh and made her tingle all over. In the full length mirror, she tied the sash, adjusted and readjusted it until the robe was not so closed—perfectly—then she ran her fingers through the deep valley between her breasts and went to the living room.

John was sitting in his recliner. She waited patiently for him to look up from his paperwork but ended up having to clear her throat to get his attention. She crossed her arms under her chest and leaned forward. “You gonna be long?”

He sighed. “I've got this mess up at the Coffeeville plant.” He glanced over the top of his glasses and added, “Not too long. Give me a little while and I'll be in. Okay.”

“Okay…I'll be waiting.” She turned and left the living room.

Candy sat seductively on the bed, frustration mounting with each passing minute. She felt like a beggar. She went back to the mirror and untied the bow. Her robe opened slowly, slipping away from the center of her body. It caught on the crown of each tit, revealing the fullness of her globes and the depth of her cleavage. She stared at her body. Her hand circled her flat stomach, then dove down across the narrow strip of pubic hair and grasped the fullness of her bald pussy-lips. The sound of her moan frightened her. It had been a long time since she'd felt that way. She was horny like a teenager, desperate, trapped and lonely.

Her every suggestive move had turned Zachary into a drooling mess of hormones, and Evan, her own step-son, had stared with his mouth open. Why wouldn't her husband want her? She dropped the robe to the floor and swept her hands up her body. Her nipples were swollen and sensitive. She lifted her tit and sucked on the hard bud, then held it with her teeth. On a much taller woman, or a stripper, her tits might look normal, but on her tiny frame they were larger-than-life. Zachary would have given anything to feel them, take them in his mouth. She shifted her hips side-to-side, then turned and looked back at her ass. All the right curves were still there. What was the problem?

She picked up her robe and walked into the connected office. She passed John's massive desk, where his computer kept track of her coming and going; and went to her desk. She checked over her shoulder while the Internet window returned her search results. Her heart thumped in her chest and her stomach churned. So much had changed since she was a sneaky-peeky little girl. That's what her daddy called her, “A precocious, sneaky-peeky little girl.” Was that her fault?

A precocious little girl had been born, but a sneaky-peeky little girl had been created by events not of her own doing.

She was so young and impressionable that night the power went out. She had blinked hard in the darkness, trying to see the source of the noise—the strange sound that had awoken her. She shut her eyes, then opened them wide, but still the same blackness. Something unfamiliar and a little scary was close to her.

The whole family had been huddled in the living room to ride out the storm. A candle had been the only light when she fell asleep on the couch, but now even that was gone. Rain pounded the trailer's roof, but that was a familiar sound for a Southern girl. She strained her eyes and inched closer. Fear crept into her belly. Was it a monster?

Lightning flashed so bright it hurt her eyes, then thunder rocked the trailer and shook the windows in their sills. In that instant of brilliant light, she had seen it. She didn't understand it, but the image was burned into her brain like a picture on film. She could have forgotten a monster, but there hadn't been a monster.

The noise grew more intense, as did her curiosity. She pretended to be asleep, but kept staring. White light followed by more thunder brought an excitement that tightened Candy's chest. She knew she was seeing something she wasn't supposed to see. Why was that so exciting?

The furious hammering of rain on tin couldn't silence the slap, slap, slapping sound of... Something funny was happening between her legs and an electric current was running through her insides.

That night, the darkness hid so much from her, but there were plenty of opportunities for a sneaky little girl to find out what happened behind closed doors, and why it made her feel so good when she saw it. How else would a precocious girl learn?

There had been drastic changes in technology since that night, but not much had changed inside the precocious girl. Candy was breathing hard. She had justification. Or was it rationalization?

---