The 37-year-old Janet lay prone in her bed, wearing a thigh length sleeping gown hiked up to her belly, having stripped off her panties and thrown the covers off earlier. Her feet positioned flat on the bed, thighs spread, her knees high, she was pleasing herself, slowly climbing the ladder to orgasm. Her right middle finger stroked inside of her wet fuck hole, while her left forefinger teased her clit.
“Go back to bed, Jeffrey.” I’ll get up and fix breakfast in a few minutes. It’s too early.” She scolded.
Janet was in her childhood home, having left her husband three months earlier and had filed for divorce. Her parents had welcomed her back with open arms, especially her father. Jeff was her younger brother, only 19. A surprise pregnancy to their parents, he was the star of the family, a genius really, and was a pain in her ass as he always had been. Home for the summer months, he would soon have his doctorate in microbiology, but the way he acted one might suspect him of being mentally deficient. To her, he seemed helpless at times… like when it was time to eat.
The spell was broken. Though trying to rekindle the fire between her legs it appeared hopeless and she gave up, cursing her brother. She rose from the bed. Entering the hall, she saw no sign of her brother, her scolding had sent him scrambling back to his bed. She continued to the bathroom, bathing quickly under the steaming hot water. Naked under a terrycloth robe, her flaming red hair combed straight, left damp, she, leaving the light and fan on, proceeded to the kitchen to prepare her brother’s breakfast. Passing his door, she knocked firmly and told him in no uncertain terms to be in the kitchen in 10 minutes.
Janet stood at the sink washing dishes, taking up the slack from her mother as agreed, her mother and father having left for work more than an hour ago. Looking over her shoulder, she greeted her brother, Jeff, as he came into the open concept family area of the recently remodeled home.
“What time is it, sis?” He asked, as he usually did every weekday morning. He wore only his briefs and a T-shirt.
“Time for me to be getting ready for work. Your plate is on the table. You can heat it up in the microwave. And, be sure to wash your dishes. I am not your slave.”
“Where is my water and juice?”
Janet threw the washcloth in the sink and reached or two glasses. Shaking her head, she studied her brother as he closed on the table to sit down. She saw the bulge in his briefs, knowing he was well hung, and wondered if he was as sexual as she was, masturbating often of late, not having a husband around. How many times had she pushed her anger and frustration at her husband’s shortcomings aside to fuck him. Her sexuality was a curse, her several undiscovered infidelities contributing to her wrecked marriage.
Janet went to her bedroom, tossing her terrycloth robe on the bed. She retrieved a few clothing items and began putting them on, studying herself in the mirror as she put on each item; her panties, covering a thick forest of pubic hair, matching her top-knot and a well proportioned, a mite heavy, bubbled ass; stockings, firming up her smooth, well proportioned thighs that did not touch; her bra, corralling ample breast with raisin sized nipples that were impressively tall when firm; the skirt, black and formfitting, showing off her hips; the eggshell, white blouse that fit tightly across her boobs; And lastly, the black high heels that postured her ass nicely, that, she knew, drew the looks of men.
She left her bedroom and stopped by the bathroom for a brief curl and brush of her hair. Entering the living area, she wished her brother a good day, telling him to be sure to be at supper at 6 o’clock and that they would go for their usual walk afterward.
“What! No kiss goodbye.” He accused.
She waited for him to approach, shifting her eyes quickly to the bulge in his briefs, that appeared bigger, then back, reminding her of her feeling of sexual frustration. She received her kiss on the cheek and gave him one in return. She headed for the side door that led to the driveway and her car. Jeff, watched his sister, noting the sway of her ass as she crossed the large living area. Had she been looking, she would have seen the bulge in his briefs become a little bigger still.
Jeff did not have a girlfriend. He had never had one and shied whenever a possible relationship presented itself. He did acknowledge the mystique and stimulating feeling the opposite sex presented. His sister, always conscious of her looks and dress, was unavoidable and presented to him feelings he did not entirely understand.
He did however enjoy embracing his ample cock. Leaving the dishes unwashed in the sink, he had directly for the bathroom, shedding his underclothes and stepping into the bathtub, adjusting the shower. He lowered himself to a sitting, then lying, position in the large tub. He reached for his mostly erect cock and began to stroke it slowly. He had only occasionally looked up porn on the internet, and then, only PICs of naked women and female genitalia. He had marveled at the variety of vaginae and wondered what his sister’s must look like. His preference was the large labia, pussy lipped, angry appearing female sexual organ.
He studied his cock intensely as he stroked. On the down stroke he stretched the skin over at his domed head, noting the thick vein that ran up the bottom side. How big was it, he did not care, as length and thickness had no meaning as to good or bad. His mind soon focused on the one sexual vision he had stored away – that of watching his mother and father as they had sexual intercourse, missionary style, a year earlier, as he happened to pass their cracked bedroom door.
The bedroom had been slightly illuminated by the crack in the bathroom door as the light had been left on. Both bodies were uncovered and naked. He saw his mother on her back with her knees ratcheting backward and forward and his father’s backside bobbing up and down, stroking inside of her. He had focused on her right thigh and brief glimpses off her ass, that seemed to be spot-lighted by the available light. He recalled his mother’s moans, her praising of his father’s cock, and her frantic demand of “fuck me hard!”.
Her frantic plea! The way Jeff was now frantically stroking his cock, staring at it. He had watched them long enough to hear his mother’s subdued cry of completion, followed by his father’s own moan of ejaculation. Now, revisiting his mother’s orgasm, his cock erupted, squirting cum into the air, only to fall on his hand and wrist. His labored breathing quickly slowed to normal as he stroked his less firm cock.