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This is the story of June and Jason, born a year and a day apart. June was a robust and thoughtful girl with an active imagination and only a few hang-ups brought on by her upbringing. Jason was the younger, with an inquisitive mind, playful spirit, and only slightly mischievous, for a boy. The two loved each other as only a brother and sister can, but hated each other as any two highly competitive, slightly neglected siblings naturally do.

This is the story of how the slight neglect of their parents, Virgil and Elizabeth, also born a year and a day apart, led each of the two to find a pseudo self respect in the demeaning, domination, and exploitation of the other.

Set in the rural countryside of northwestern Washington state, among the tulip fields of a small farming community, somewhere within walking distance of the rocky shores of the Puget Sound, our story ironically flouts all moral standards normally associated with the small, conservative, Christian society in which it takes place.

Virge and Libby had moved to the area 20 years earlier when their Tennessee hippie commune began to show signs of faltering under the egos, hardships, and rising debt visited upon them by the return to power of the Republicans and all the values they brought with them in the early eighties. Virge's family wealth helped them establish their own utopia in the fertile valleys of the Northwest.

Unfortunately, their utopian ideals also kept them in the dark when it came to the depravity, karmic ills, and basic nihilism of their own children's character. Had they been aware of where their self-illusionment was leading, Virge and Libby would have tuned in, turned on, and dropped dead.

Meanwhile, the story of June and Jason was moving ahead without them, as it had always done. It began innocently enough with simple exhibitionism. June, aware that Jason was dealing poorly with his own maturation, would parade naked from room to room, hoping to flaunt her nubile body, budding breasts, and curving hips before her younger brother.

Jason, predictably, would disappear into another room for a few moments of post-pubescent stimulus-response, secretly depositing the product of his manipulations into something belonging to his sister, the more intimate the receptacle, the more likely.

Usually a pair of used panties, as they were the most readily available and convenient. But sometimes he would shoot his spunk into something a little more devious, such as her lotion dispenser, her shampoo, or, on occasion, a clean pair of panties that he would return to her top drawer after soaking the absorbent patch in the crotch with his well-earned fluids. They would then become the source of future masturbatory fantasies.

June wasn't totally unaware of the consequences of her actions. In fact, June enjoyed listening at the bathroom door and would often wait to hear Jason's gasps of pleasure before retreating to the confines of her own bedroom to administer to her own libidinous yearnings. Though, had she been around when her clean underwear were soiled, she likely would never have donned them, allowing her loins to be spoiled by the unholy seed of her devilish brother

Jason only wrapped his erupting manhood in his sister's fresh cottons when he was quite convinced of the un-likeliness of being caught in the act, and this only happened when June wasn't waiting outside the bathroom door. Thus devious June's abundant fluids mixed rather infrequently with her sibling's.

Jason was also aware of the effect he could have on June. Masturbating in the morning could almost always guarantee him a playful, skirt-wearing, panty-flashing exhibitionist of a sister for the 7 hours between breakfast and after-school snack. Then a late afternoon fantasy session outside the bathroom door, as June was none too quiet when she would hit the massaging showerhead.

These activities, proclivities, and subtle manipulations continued for years, right under the noses of their daft parents. Each rarely venturing beyond subconscious acceptance of the other's libidinous affectations, June and Jason were ripe for an unbridled foray into the forbidden lair of incestuous coupling.

By the time June first began to consider leaving home, holding an ear to the bathroom door, listening to Jason's orgasmic release had become the biggest part of her personal sexuality. Imagining what was going on behind that door was the stimulus to her response and she'd found herself unable to come 'round to bliss without it.

She also thought about the semen she'd found in her lotion dispenser and other personal hygiene products. Rubbing it into her skin -- knowingly, disgustedly, willingly. Massaging it into her pussy. It was so dirty, but so erotic. Bringing herself to orgasm with the physical, fluid produce of her brother's, heretofore, merely audible orgasm.

She imagined watching his large, strong hands, one placed absent-mindedly on her right knee, forcing her legs apart, the other encircling his fleshy, pulsating cock with a languid stroking, tempting her hips into a matching rhythmic motion. And as she imagined the tension in his ever-broadening shoulders, she could practically feel the occasional brush of his knuckles on the swollen, slick inner folds of her hot, tingling pussy.

His gruff moans egging her on to a lewdness she couldn't predict of herself in any real life situation, she reached down between her legs to stroke the hardening button that had been the source of so much pleasure over the years. The surprise she'd feel when the head of Jason's cock touched the back of her hand, pushing her fingertips heavily down upon that most sensitive of organs, was the catalyst she'd been waiting for.

Thinking of the jets of semen that he'd recently deposited into the panties she'd found soaked and musty in her panty drawer, June was now holding them tightly against her quivering quim. She imagined feeling it fresh and warm, straight from the source, splashing into the pedals of her womanly flower. Voraciously, she fingered her erect little bud, lubricated by a mixture of her own copious fluids and the teeming liquid produced by the stroking of her sibling's cock; a stroking mad with the passion of having seen her blooming body.

Without further notice, a tingle shot through her abdomen, from clit to anus and upward, sending her into a convulsing, slippery, orgasm. She pushed the crotch of the panties as deeply into her pussy as she could reach, taking her naughtiness to new, disturbing levels. June's psyche followed her lewdness with a release from worldly connections, worries, and concerns, and she slowly glided down from her Everest-like peak to be cocooned in the warmth of her bedding and the tightness of the soaked panties on her pussy.

Returning to the thoughts which had taken her to such heights, she felt reminded of the passion she must incite. How she could require such a response from her brother baffled her -- clumsy and uncomfortable, yet capable of pushing a man to the edge over a simple glimpse as she dashed bathroom to bedroom. What power this body held; what detriment this self-doubt inflicted.

Jason knew June was considering leaving. He had yet to implement his master plan and she was already leaving. Who would play these games if she were gone? Whose panties would he ejaculate into, knowing she'd slip them on soon after relieving herself of the tension she'd instrumented?

His self-esteem wasn't the issue. The fact he'd probably never get a real girl, someone direct, beckoning, and legal was of secondary concern. The important thing was the plan: Take her unwittingly, unwillingly, and un-witnessed -- before she leaves home.

At first, he thought, he would take her after a debaucherous night's drunkenness. After a long night out, her semi-amorous partner had summarily rejected June. It turned out that he had discovered his latent homosexuality in a spontaneous game of spin the bottle where he ended up in the closet with a boy in 'two minutes of anything goes.' Sorry, June, but he really liked it.

She would come home crying, lonely, and horny. Hoping for the sympathetic comforts of her little brother, she'd be surprised to find him sprawled naked on his bed, on top of the bedclothes, sporting a dream-induced erection.

Irresistibly attracted to his manhood, June would step into the room. A single shaft of light from the open door behind her would illuminate her younger brother's cock as if a lighted candle, beckoning to a moth. In a few short, clumsy and drunken steps she would be at his bedside, slipping out of her evening gown and sliding into bed next to him.

Wrapping her fingers around his thick cock, she would pump it, imagining the hard beast sliding between the taught lips of her pussy until she couldn't stand it anymore. On the brink of shooting ropey jets of slick, warm, incestuous semen into her hands, Jason would awaken slightly as he became aware of someone straddling him, positioning his cock at the opening of her radiant, slick, love flower.

Deftly, she would guide his erect penis into the warm, inviting opening between her legs and lower herself onto it. Still groggy from a dream he was just having, Jason would not quite have grasped reality of the situation and would start moving with his sister, unaware whose glorious pussy was giving him such pleasure.

Then, just as she starts to moan in pleasure, ascending into her own orgasm, Jason would fully awaken, coming to the full realization of exactly what's happening, just seconds before flooding his sister's womb with thick spurt after spurt of potent and incestuous semen.

This fantasy always went just long enough to bring Jason to an orgasm and this time he was unloading into the cotton lining of June's black satin thong. He liked the thongs because he could wrap them tightly around his cock and still stroke himself off without the need of interrupting his bliss to direct his emissions into something further away.

June pressed her fingers against her pussy as she waited silently in the darkened hallway. She was crouched, feeling especially naughty in her nudity, at Jason's bedroom door, wanting nothing more than to burst in and pull the panties she imagined he had just soiled off of his still-rigid cock to rub them squarely into the fleshy warmth of her waiting snatch.

How could she leave this? The only comfort she'd ever received from a family member was an absolute. Jason would always give her the immediate and unquestioned validation that her boyish, freckled body was something to be desired, lusted over, and wanted, without any expectation of return or even acknowledgment.

She felt sick at how long she'd taken to realize what this snotty young man, little boy, devil child had given her. And now she was supposed to leave home.

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last update : 20-9-2014