His sister’s game plagued him all afternoon. Was she seeing how far she could push him? What would she do if he were to go into her room and force himself on her? That idea appealed to him, but the potential fall-out would be too high a price to pay… What would all his friends say if they knew he had raped his own sister? No, never. Sam did his best to forget that he had even considered that as an option. But still, he so desired her! The arrival back off his parents provided a welcome distraction. As usual his sisters attitude towards him at the table was cool. As they sat at the table eating, his mother turned to Sam. “Do you fancy making some holiday cash Sam?” Sam stopped eating, Intrigued. “Possibly. What is it?” “I have a friend at work who hates gardening. Unfortunately for her, she has a large one.” “So why does she not get her husband to take care of it?” enquired Sam. “Probably because she is single.” Laughed his mother. “Ahh that might prove to be a drawback I suppose.” “I’ll let you think about it. If you are interested, I’ll give you the address and you can go and see her.” “Cheers mum.” ‘Bonus’ thought Sam. Pocket money. His sister soon destroyed his happy mood. She had obviously decided to turn the heat up. That evening, whenever she thought their parents were not looking, she gave her brother long sultry looks. Sam tried to ignore her, with little success. Sam imagined himself going down to the opticians to see if they sold ‘Come to bed contacts’ as his sister seemed to be wearing a pair. Every time he caught her gaze he developed a raging erection. Perversely, Sam did not want to leave the presence of his parents, as he did not want to be alone with his sister. He even made sure that she went to bed before he did. As he stripped and got into bed, he expected the door to open and his sister walk in. Tired as he was, sleep eluded him. He decided to do the gardening job. Not so much for the money, but to get away from his sister. The next morning he told his mother that he was interested. She gave him the address and explained that her friend had tools and would provide lunch. Putting on some old clothes he wheeled his bike out the garage. Hopefully he mentally waved his sister and his physical desire good bye. The day was pleasant, with the promise of heating up later. The area the house was in was upper middle class. All with large, well kept gardens and neatly trimmed lawns. This helped to identify his destination, as the garden stood out like a municipal tip. The grass was so long and unkempt that if any flower beds had existed, they were beyond redemption. It looked like he would have to work for his money. Leaving his bike leaning against the dilapidated front fence, he carefully negotiated the grasping barbarous that had once lined, now dominated the path. Safely at the front door, he rang the doorbell. Sam was surprised when he heard the chimes reverberate around the inside of the house. The condition of the garden had not provided good omens on the condition and workings of the house. He did not have to wait long before the door was enthusiastically wrenched open. Sam found himself standing in front of a rather vivacious, mid thirty something old woman, who’s conservative style of dress did not seem to match the rather excitable nature on show. “Are you Sam?” Unconsciously Sam looked around before replying. “Yes.” “Come in. Come in. No need to stand out there like a stranger. You will get plenty of time to look at the garden over the next few days.” Sam found himself all but dragged into the house. Inside, Sam discovered the interior to be at odds with the exterior. The inside, he noticed as he was ‘assisted’ along the hallway, was spotless and well maintained. Surfaces were clean and shiny. Pictures adorned the walls and shelves and cabinets were tastefully placed. Some contained old, possibly rare – and by default, expensive- books. Others held nick-knacks and other, not quite fitting in, ornaments. “I’m Lorna. If your mother hasn’t already told you.” Sam couldn’t recall his mother telling him her name. That did not mean she had not. He did not always fully listen to his mother, as she had a tendency to harp on a bit. “Uh. Hello Lorna” He replied some what lamely, remembering some small vestige of manners. Lorna noticed him studying his surroundings. “I’m not a great fan of the outdoors, I’m afraid. All that mucky dirt. Creepy crawly things, and thorny bushes that rip into your legs. No not for me. I much prefer a feather duster to a spade.” “Riiiight.” Sam said slowly, thinking that Lorna may be a bit ‘lost’ upstairs. “There’s a toilet through there, kitchens through here. If you get hungry, like I’m sure a growing boy like yourself will, there’s plenty of food lying around that you can help yourself to.” “What about the garden?” Sam asked. Lorna stopped to look at him. “What about it?” “Well you know, what do you want done with it? Apart from tidying it up, that is.” “Anything you want. As long as it looks tidy I’m happy.” Sam mentally pictured the wilderness that he had just walked through and the words ‘blank check’, popped into his mind. “Fine, I’ll get started then.” “Lunch about half twelve suit you?” “That’s fine by me. By the way where are the tools kept?” “OH! Silly me. The garage round the back has all the tools. Rummage around and help yourself.” “Cheers. I’ll err, see you later then?” “O.k. then, byeee” “Christ” thought Sam “What have I let myself in for.” The garage, though neat and ordered like the house, showed a thick layer of dirt over every surface, proving that it had not been entered -at least by a human, if the varied little tracks in the dust were anything to go by- for some considerable time. There was a wide variety of power tools on offer as well as the more mundane, hand and muscle variety. That had been one of his worries. That he would turn up and there would only be a spade and a fork with a broken handle. There was a petrol mower looking rather forlorn in the corner, so he wheeled it out into the sunlight. It did not appear to be in to bad a nick. Sam cast his eye around the interior of the garage for something that might vaguely be liquid and flammable. A jerry can sat under a long disused workbench. Sam kicked it experimentally. It sloshed. “Bonus” he said as he flicked the top up and sniffed the contents. It smelt like petrol. Sam looked at the mower, “Soon find out.” Sam filled the mower tank, then tried to suss out how to start it. After five minutes of starter cord pulling, he was about to give up when the engine kicked into life. Thick black clouds of smoke belched from the exhaust. “Bloody hell” Sam retreated back from the mower. Slowly the smoke began to disappear and the engine ran smoother. Reassured that the mower was not about to turn into the gardening version of a claymore mine, he approached and took control of the handle. The work was hard going as the grass was so long that the mower did not cut it properly on the first, second or third passes. Nor could he relax into it, as every now and then he would hit something that would make the mower buck with a loud bang. Occasionally when it kicked, something would fly away with such speed that he only caught the movement out the corner of his eye. As exhausting as it was, the sheer simplicity of the work was calming. Sam slowly settled in and pushed all thoughts of his sister away. “YOU WHO!” Sam jerked out of the daze that he had unconsciously slipped into and looked over. Lorna was waving at him from the back door. Sam turned the mower off. He headed over to her, his ears ringing slightly, his hands and arms feeling funny after the prolonged vibration. “I’ve made some lunch if your are interested?” Sam stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it, to see if made a difference to the ringing. His attention brought back to reality, he noticed that he was indeed hungry. “Great!” He replied. Lunch turned out to be a salad, with thick slices of meat and a selection of sauces in pots. Sam wolfed the lot down with gusto. Only afterwards did he feel embarrassed over his haste. Lorna appeared not to mind. As they ate, Lorna kept up a steady stream of conversation, with Sam, mouth full, grunting occasionally. Hunger satisfied, Sam left Lorna to tidy up and headed back out to the garden. At the doorway he paused to admire his work. The garden looked different already. He had almost finished cutting the grass and the difference that cutting the grass made surprised him. In his minds eye he started to plan where he would put flowerbeds and some of the ornaments that he had discovered in the garage. As his stomach settled down, he made his way over to the lawnmower. By the time he had raked all the cut grass up and cleaned the lawnmower it was time to head back home. He said his farewells to Lorna and with the confirmation that he would be back first thing the next day, headed home. He arrived back home just in time for tea. “So, how did it go?” His mother asked him. “All-right. The gardens big and in a terrible mess and she’s a bit, you know, weird” His mother laughed, “You noticed” Sam smiled wryly. After tea Sam had a much-needed shower, then surprisingly tired, went to bed. No sooner had his head touched the pillow than he was out like a shot. For the first time in several nights his dreams were of gardens and not of his sister. So deep was his sleep, that later on that night he failed to wake when his sister slipped into the room. She padded, softly as ever, over to his side. She looked down on her brother’s relaxed prone form. Her hand unconsciously moved under her slip to between her legs. As her fingertips traced her lips, she pressed the silken fabric into her cleft, rubbing hard at her fleshy button. Her breathing deepened, but apart from her hand, she still did not move. Slowly she felt her orgasm build up inside her. She had not come into his room for this purpose, but now that she was well on the way, she was content to see it through. She looked further down at her chest. She was so aroused that her nipples were perfectly visible through the thin fabric. She raised her idle right hand and caressed her left breast. Briefly she imagined that the hand was that of her brother. Bolts of pleasure ran through her and the image of her brother faded as her need took precedence. Her palm rubbed over her highly sensitised nipple, her fingers digging into the flesh of her breast. Her other hand stopped its own rubbing and slipped under the fabric of her panties, her fingers running around her circumference before slipping deep into her. She failed to contain her gasp of pleasure but still Sam did not stir. She continued to stand at the side of Sam’s bed. Her head low, chin resting on her chest, her hair falling forward over her face as her orgasm reached its fiery crescendo. As the pleasure subsided and her frantic hand movements slowed she slowly raised her head. Sam still lay oblivious. She continued to play with her breasts as the fingers of her left hand slipped from within her. She raised her hand, which glistened in the moonlight with her cum, and brought it to her nose. She deeply inhaled her sent, then lent over Sam. She allowed her hand to drop then moved it over to his face. She lightly touched her glistening fingertips to his lips. “Thank you Sam” she whispered softly, and then left the room. Sam, deep in slumber, did not move. Sam woke in a start as he was rudely awakened by the blare of his alarm. Groggily he thumped the off button and swung his legs out of bed. A motion that elicited groans from his lips. He hurt. He hurt all over. Aware that it would only get better with movement, he made a shaky attempt at standing. As he stood, his bladder joined the clamour. Co-ordination slightly off, he stumbled to the toilet. Sighing with the pleasure of release, he allowed his water to flow forth. As he finished, he stretched his back, listening to the sounds of his vertebrae cracking and licked his lips. They tasted slightly funny, so he ran his tongue round them again. He puzzled over the strange taste for a minute then ditched the thought. Back in his room he changed into his work clothes and headed downstairs for something to eat. The rest of the household was still asleep and Sam luxuriated in the peace and tranquillity. After a slightly larger breakfast than usual, he checked his watch and noticed that if he did not get a move on, he would be late. During the bike ride over to Lorna’s house, he finally felt his muscles start to loose some of their stiffness. By the time he reached her house he almost felt human again. Sam was not surprised to find Lorna up and about. By the looks of things she had been for some time. Sam let her know he was here and with the thought that it should be illegal for people to look that lively in the morning, headed back outside. The garden looked strange in the fresh light of a new day. The freshly mown lawn hinted at the possibilities the garden could offer. Leaving the mower alone, Sam retrieved the fork. There was not much to be saved in the borders, so Sam decided not to waste time looking. As he dug into the weeds, he breathed in the rich earthy smell. The topsoil was of good quality. Looking around he decided that where he dumped the grass clippings would do for the weeds, until a more permanent solution could be found. Sam noticed that he seemed to be digging up an exceptionally large amount of bricks before he realised that they had been originally used as the boundary between border and lawn. He left them piled to one side as he slowly went along. It was turning out to be a beautiful day. Sam removed his T-shirt as an aid to cooling and as a chance to catch some rays. He had got less than halfway down before the blisters in his hands forced him to look for an easier task. Looking at his handiwork he decided to reset the bricks. It was not too much work to cut a fresh clean edge in the lawn. The bricks had been set in a forty-five degree angle so that just one corner showed above ground in a series of triangles. The style was simple and easy to replicate and once the soil had been backfilled in, looked good. He had just caught up to where he had stopped weeding when Lorna came out to tell him lunch was out. Sam was caught off guard. He hadn’t realised so much time had passed. Lorna looked appraisingly at the work done so far. “My, you have been a busy little bee, haven’t you? You have managed to make such a big difference already. I really like it, thank you” Sam stopped in the process of removing his muddy boots “I haven’t finished yet.” She watched him like a hawk as he placed his boots at the door before entering. She watched fascinated as the muscles in his lithe young body rippled and flexed in the process of boot removal. Sam looked up and saw her staring at him, a hungry look in her eyes. She did not look away and met his gaze. Embarrassed, Sam looked for a way out. “Umm, I’ll just go get my shirt” Lorna only nodded. Sam felt her eyes bore into his back as he walked across the lawn in his socks. As he stooped to retrieve it, Lorna turned and headed back inside. It was with a great deal of trepidation that he re-entered the house. Inside, Lorna had changed back into her dippy self and over lunch Sam failed to get a word in. Sam put all effort back into his work and the afternoon passed just as quickly as the morning had done. After storing the tools he made his farewells and headed back home. The previous evening was repeated in that after tea, he showered, read a comic for a while then went to bed. Slipping asleep just as fast as the night before. As the previous night he failed to wake when his door opened and the form of his sister drifted over to him. Again she watched him in the moonlight. At lunchtime, Lorna effused loudly about the amount of work he had done and that they should pay a visit to Home base or B&Q, to get some herbaceous plants to fill her newly revitalised borders. Sam nodded nervously at the ‘we’ part. There was not much to do in the back garden and Sam found his thoughts slowly turning to the front of the house. He had to admit, they would have to get some plants for the front. It would look stupid bare of colour and vegetation. Sam found himself slowly slipping into a regime. Work-tea-shower-read for a bit-sleep-work… In her room Sam’s sister allowed her towel to drop from her damp naked body. She looked at her reflection in the mirror, not critically but curiously. Leaving her image she walked to her drawers and removed a clean chemise and matching pants. She had long given up wearing either pyjamas or a nightie. The material of either tended to be weighty and restricting. She liked the way chemises floated around her body, clung to her contours. The way the material whispered between her thighs as she walked. The way the silk and lace rubbed against her nipples. How in bed, her skin slid smoothly against the soft glossy fabric. Just thinking of it was starting to turn her on. Aroused she slipped in between her sheets, the hem of her chemise riding up to her waist. Her now exposed panties in direct contact with the cool cotton sheets. As hard as she tried, she could not help but lie on her front and slowly grind her pubis against the yielding pressure of her mattress. But it was not enough she wanted more. She rolled once more onto her back. Her hands slowly and inescapably, slipping to rest with pleasure, at the juncture of her legs. Her back arched as she pulled the rough lace of her pants between her fleshy folds. The fingers of her other hand pushing the lace further in and against her clit, grinding the material into a sodden crumpled strip. Her orgasm had yet to fully subside as, in what was becoming a regular and compulsive habit, she slipped from the clammy heat of her bed and headed for her brothers room. The cool air of the hallway drifted around her bare legs and arms. The bunched and twisted lace of her panty gusset still trapped between her fleshy lips. As she walked down the hallway, the rough lace continued to grind against her sensitive folds, the cool air adding yet another dimension to the sensory flood of emotions. At her brothers door she neither paused to check if he was asleep or to readjust her attire. Quietly shutting the door behind her she advanced on her sleeping brother’s form. As usual she paused at her brother’s bedside. She looked down on his peaceful recumbent body. He had kicked most of his sheets off in the hot summer night air. She looked with undisguised and unequivocal lust at his almost naked figure. Slipping between her legs, her fingers slipped past the lace obstruction to delve deep within her yet again. Not surprised that the sight of her brother brought her to another climactic release, so soon after her earlier orgasm. As her heartbeat slowly subsided and her blood pressure lowered, she continued to look at her brother. She imagined herself slipping into bed alongside him. His arms wrapped tightly enfolding her, his maleness pressing against her. She imagined the caress of his rough bare flesh, pressing closely against the soft and tender pale smoothness of her own. She dreamed of his breath on her neck, her face, and her lips. To her surprise, she felt the waves of a rapidly returning orgasm. She had never experienced so many orgasms so close together and definitely not of such fervent intensity. Hastily she put a hand to the bed as she felt her knees start to buckle. Her teeth bit hard on her bottom lip as she tried to stifle her cries. She looked up, expecting Sam to be watching her with those big eyes of his. Sam still slept soundly. She licked her lips, feeling and tasting the wetness of blood. She looked at his lips and was overtaken with the desire to share her pain and intimate pleasure with him. She slowly bent forward, her lips moist and flushed with the colour of blood, moved towards his dry, slightly parted mouth. As she lent further forward, the distance between them rapidly dwindling, her long hair fell forward. The tips of her dark locks lightly brushed his cheeks as she closed the gap. Sam, still deeply asleep, felt the feather like touch of her hair, grunted and rolled over onto his side. Suddenly and unexpectedly, Sam’s sister found herself looking closely at the back of his head. Suddenly deprived and at a loss, she straightened and stepped back. Aware that the moment was lost, the spell broken, she turned and reluctantly headed for the door. The fluid of her orgasm was starting to rapidly cool and as she softly walked to the rooms exit, the damp lace started to chaff uncomfortably against her young and tender flesh. Pausing at the threshold, she was caught by a passing mischievousness streak. She slipped her hands under the slip and slid her sodden pants down her legs. Stepping out of the material she brought the garment to her nose and inhaled a deep lungful of her musky scent. She walked back to the side of the bed, the air moving torpidly around her bare, still damp valley of the gods. She placed the lacy fabric on the pillow next to his head, her fingertips trailing over the damp gusset. She looked fondly down upon him. “See what you do to me. See how my body hungers for you. Smell me, dream of me.” Her hand moved from the pillow to lightly touch his hair, and then reluctantly, she finally headed for her own room. The next morning Sam slowly roused from sleep. He opened an eye and looked at his alarm clock. Ten minutes before the alarm would sound. He closed his eye and relaxed in the warm comfort of his bed. Under the duvets comforting weight and warmth, he stretched out, taking perverse pleasure in the pain of his protesting muscles. Suitably stretched, he rolled over onto his side, determined to make the most of his remaining eight minutes or so. Something tickled his nose and a ruck pressed into his cheek. Discomforted he wriggled his head in an effort to remove the crease from his pillow. The material of his pillowslip failed to move as expected and he was assailed by strange smell. Sam opened his eyes and looked at his offending pillow. Sam did not know what to think, or how to react, as he stared at the silken underwear lying on his pillow. He thought back to the previous night, but swore blind that he had gone straight to bed. He did not recall ever having slept walked before, which only really meant that another party had placed them there. Looking at the style and fabric, this pointed only to his sister, which created yet another question. That of what she had been doing in his room the night before. Sam rubbed his cheek, feeling the outlines of the lace embedded in his flesh. He realised that he must have been sleeping on the panties for some considerable time. Inquisitively he lifted the garment from the pillow and held it close to his nose. They were definitely worn. He lowered them from his face and looked at them in resignation. What on Earth was he supposed to do with them? Keep them? Hand them back? Throw them out? Sam discarded the last almost as soon as he thought it. What if they were not his sisters and had been placed there by some one else? That thought made him shudder. What was he to do? He continued to look at the intimate worn underwear, his hands unconsciously caressing the silky fabric. Sam suddenly jumped as his alarm went off. Stuffing the offending article in with the rest of his female attire he resolved to deal with the problem at a later date. As he worked in Lorna’s garden his mind pondered the problem. Maybe he should seek advice. That led to the question of who to seek advice from. Family was definitely out of the equation. He heard Lorna singing to herself in the house. Lorna maybe? Then he remembered the look she gave him yesterday. Even in his young age he realised that would open an even more complicated can of worms. Violently he thrust the fork into the ground “Bugger” His fourth day, Sam was getting used to the various aches and pains that greeted him in the morning. With trepidation he looked around his bed then the room. Nothing untoward. He raised the sheet covering him. Still nothing out of place. He lowered the sheet and slipped out of bed. He looked towards the poster on the wall. “No visitors, quiet night then.” Sam reached over and turned the alarm off, just as it was about to ring. He quickly dressed and headed downstairs. Determined to be out before his sister rose and spoilt the day. It was uncomfortable riding the bike at first as the handles, padded as they were, pressed painfully against his blisters. Lorna greeted him cheerfully as she did every morning. Sam wondered if she ever got sullen moody and/or depressed. “Like every other woman that I know does on regular monthly basis.” “What was that Sam dear?” Sam was horrified that he had spoken aloud. “Uh. I was just thinking aloud.” “You’re a bit young for dementia aren’t you” Lorna laughed at him. “Whatever” Sam carefully muttered under his breath. Sam tidied up the back garden of all the loose bits of rubbish and for want of relief to his hands, strung up the washing line he found discarded in the garage. Unable to find any other light work, he reluctantly picked up spade and fork and headed round to the front of the house. The gorse and berberis proved heavy going so he left them alone till he could lay his hands on something that would chop them back. That left him back with spadework. There was no choice now. He’d have to take a day off to give his hands a chance to heal. That lunchtime he put forward the idea that he would take the next day to do some ‘essential shopping’. It sounded better than his hands hurt. Lorna didn’t mind, in fact for one scary moment Sam thought that she was going to volunteer to go shopping with him! Back outside Sam despondently kicked at some rubbish. For some strange reason his whole life seemed to be heading for disaster. The only choice he seemed to have; was which express train to hell he jumped on. Having no particular task in which sink his energies, time seemed to drag. With great relief when the time came to depart for home, he put away the tools with considerably more energy than he had shown all day. As he let Lorna know he was leaving she stopped him. “Here you go Sam. Payment for work done so far, you can use it to offset your shopping” Sam took the proffered sealed envelope. “Thanks Lorna. I’ll see you the day after?” “That’ll be fine Sam. I will be waiting for you.” “Bye” “Bye” She waved him off. Sam worried about her closing statement. Worried about it so much, a car almost ran him over. Safely back at home he parked his bike back in the garage. The path from the garage side door took him round to the back door of the house. His sister was sitting in a garden chair reading a novel. She looked up as he approached. “Hi Sam. It’s been quiet round here without you.” Sam stopped dead in his tracks and looked at her. She wore a remarkably restrained and modest sundress though several of the top buttons were undone leaving rather more of her cleavage to his eye than he was particularly comfortable with. “Will you sit with me? It’s nice in the sun.” “I’m dirty and smelly. I really need to shower.” He tried to calmly continue to walk to the back door. He was aware that he was failing. “Mmmm... Shower” Sam dared not look back. That was it. He had not planned on going into town, but there was no way on Earth he was staying within pheromone distance of his sister. Inside he met his mother. “I was speaking to Lorna on the phone earlier. She was over the moon with your work” “Really?” “Actually no. She said your were bone idle and determined to eat her out of house and home.” Sam’s jaw dropped open in shock. His mother lifted a hand and pinched the flesh of his cheek between thumb and forefinger, wiggling her catch gently. “Don’t look so horrified, love. I’m only teasing. She genuinely appreciated the work you have done.” “Christ mum, you had me worried there.” “I know.” She giggled and headed back into the kitchen. Sam watched her retreating back. His mum had giggled. It just did not seem right. Mums in his book did not ‘giggle’ like schoolgirls. He turned back towards the stairs and jumped, startled. His sister stood in the back door way. The sun beaming down behind her some how made the material of her dress almost transparent. Although her dress almost reached her ankles he could clearly make out the contours of her legs. He could almost make out her underwear. He suddenly realised that she was intently watching him staring between her legs. He looked up bashful and ashamed. She just smiled that knowing little smile of hers. Desperate to get away he rushed up the stairs. Stopping briefly in his room for a change of clothes, he checked that she had not followed him upstairs. He heard her voice downstairs speaking to mum. Relieved he headed into the bathroom for a shower. Before he started to undress he made sure the door was locked. Twice. Under the warm spray, his thoughts turned back to his sister. Practically instantly, he developed a large, almost painful erection. It had been several days since he had last wanked and the need for release was strong. Visions of his sister in provocative poses swam in front of his eyes, as his hand gently massaged the end of his cock. Release was not long in coming. The release of some of his sexual tension helped him sit near her at the table, but he was all too aware of her bright, shining eyes. To Sam it was as though she had captured a small part of the sun and had it contained within her vision. As he left the dinner table and headed back up to his room, his erection returned, pressing urgently and painfully against his trousers. He jammed his chair under the door handle, stripped and lay on his bed. The image of his sister was still so strongly burned into his retinas that he did not need to retrieve any of her lingerie to aid in his orgasm. That evening Sam’s sister declined to dress after her shower. She lay naked on top her bedclothes. Reaching over she retrieved her dildo from an otherwise empty shoebox. She ran a hand over her pubis, allowing a couple of fingers to slip inside. As her fingers dipped inside she looked at the dildo, imagining that it was her brothers cock. Unthinking, her lips parted, allowing it to enter her mouth, tasting the stale and fresh pussy juice. She allowed it to delve in deeply, curious as to how much of it she could take. Her tongue flicked over the end as it slid in further. She was curious as to what her brother would feel and taste like. Frivolously she noted that she had never, ever taken her dildo into her mouth, nor licked her juices from it. Again she wondered what her brother would taste like, after he just taken her. His fleshy rod liberally smeared all over with a mixture of his and her cum, like some exotic desert topping. Her back arched, lifting her rear off the bed. Her calves cramped and her toes curled tightly as her orgasm took complete control. Feeling cheated at the speed at which her orgasm had overwhelmed her. She retrieved the wet and slippery dildo from where it had fallen, forgotten from her mouth. She ran the tip along the top of her sensitive ridges. Deliberately teasing her-self, seeing how far she could last before she buried it deep within her in frustration. It was not long before it was buried as far as it could go. Even after her second orgasm, she was neither content nor finished. She reached behind her head and fished under her pillow for what she had been teasing herself all night for. Her brother’s worn underpants. She had fished them out of the laundry basket earlier in the evening. They had still been warm. She let the rough cloth rest against her face. Breathing deeply, his most personal of scents. She wished that her head were in his lap, with only the thin fabric that she now touched, separating them. Her mind drifted off, to an earlier incident in the evening. She pictured the scene in her mind. She had just come in from the garden and Sam was talking to their mother. She had stood waiting for them to finish. He had jumped when he noticed her. Watched in fascination as his pupils dilated as he slowly moved his eyes over her body, over her legs. She could see him mentally undressing her. His eyes came to rest between her legs; his mouth had dropped open slightly. She wondered if he knew that she had cum there and then under his incestuous gaze. She wondered if he could see her juices as they seeped from her and ran down her inner thighs. She had so wanted to follow him up the stairs but she could not move. She feared that the simple movement of her pants against her burning flesh would cause her to call out in unmistakeable ecstasy. Her mother had called to her. She did not remember what it was or what her reply had been, but it had given her a moment to gather her senses. Quickly she had silently fled up to her room where she brought herself off simply by pulling the sodden material of her undies away and down her legs. Even after her second orgasm she was still producing fluid. So much so, that her fresh panties were sodden almost as soon as they were on. In desperation, she had inserted a tampon to soak up the excess fluid and slipped on a third fresh pair of pants. Unfortunately the tampon had the effect of a set of Ben-wa balls and left her continually aroused during the course of dinner. As she lay, still naked on her bed, her third orgasm was longer and more satisfying. Finally she drifted off to sleep, the dildo still deep inside her and the image of her brother still in her mind.