In her bed, alone in the guest room, Hannah turned from one side to the other, then back again. She thought about her favorite band, her favorite TV show. She tried thinking about nothing. She turned to lay on her back and, giving up, she lay with her eyes open staring at the patterns on the ceiling. Someone, somewhere in the house was snoring, but this is not what kept her awake.
The memories of the previous day pursued her myriad bedtime thoughts. The memories infiltrated transitory dreams in shallow sleep that crept up on her but fled quickly when she realized she was dreaming about her brother's fingers inside her and her eyes opened with a start.
The memory jolted her and set her heart to racing as she lay still and alone--the memory of inviting her brother's touch--the memory of her mischievous pleasure. She could feel her heart beat hard in her chest, chasing sleep away, though she lay unmoving. Then, the excited memories of one moment turned to horror the next—horror at the thought of what she had led her brother to do with her and could never take back—horror at the memory of her father's startled gaze at her bald sex glistening wetly in the sunlight! Her heart beat even harder, defeating sleep completely.
Finally, she surrendered and let her fingers find their way into her panties. She tried to keep her thoughts on the pleasurable memories. She tried not to think of the judgments of others. She closed her eyes as her fingertips found her pleasure-point.
She concentrated her mind on the memory of Paul's fingers playing naively inside of her. She remembered her excitement as she taught him to finger fuck her properly—her exhilaration at the sudden pleasure of it and the thrill of her depravity.
Alone in the night, her fingers found their way inside herself in an auto-erotic imitation of what her brother had done to her earlier. She breathed heavily as she sank into her own pleasure, but, in the night, Hannah's mind was not her own, and in the midst of her erotic reverie, her mind returned to her meeting with her father, standing naked before him, wet with her own sex, and her thigh smeared with her brother's semen. Now, with this more troubled memory, Hannah continued to pleasure herself, surprising herself with her own enjoyment.
She pleasured herself even harder in the night, now thinking about her father staring blankly at her naked sex. He had stood and stared at her bare labia. He must have seen how wet she was where Paul had smeared her wetness all around her smooth mound. What could her father possibly have been thinking as he stared at her there? Was it her imagination, or had she felt a stirring in him when he held her naked body so tight against him in their embrace? She let her fingers play magic on herself as she contemplated her wayward thoughts. And in spite of her initial horror, she came to realize that she also found something unexpectedly delightful about what, at the time, had seemed like a most embarrassing moment.
Hannah turned over on her stomach and put her weight on her clit, grinding herself against her fingers, her eyes closed, and her thoughts on her father, her brother. She let her mind wander unhindered on deviant and sinful things. Secretly in the night, Hannah became an explorer following a strange twisting path into the primeval wilderness of her own desire just because she wanted to see where it would go.
Spent and gratified, no longer troubled by worry, Hannah finally slipped into unawareness.
She opened her eyes thinking no time had passed and was surprised to find it was morning. She hadn't moved in sleep and her palm was still pinned under her pelvis. Sunlight peeked through the curtains. She heard soft voices from another room. The smell of cooking food tickled her hunger.
Sitting, Hannah felt energy and life return quickly. She deliberated, picking through her clothes. She remembered her secret delight and embarrassment at her solitary exposure the day before. She didn't want to be the only naked person in the room this time but it didn't really make sense to get dressed in a nudist community.
She settled on making her entrance as she was, in night-shirt and panties.
Stepping into the kitchen, she entered a world of comfort and warmth. Flowers bloomed in the window. The colors in the room were warm and earthy. A broad swath of sun lit the room barely resisted by the translucent curtains.
Aunt Lana was there, and Dad, in a dance of food preparation, clinking bowls, and skillful movement. Their bodies moved comfortably through the space and around each other. Each turned and smiled at Hannah. Lana chattered pleasant things toward her as she cut mushrooms.
Hannah smiled and said she slept well even though it was not completely true.
Hannah was struck by how comfortable her dad and aunt seemed together and with their nudity. They looked so relaxed and normal going about their pleasant morning tasks. There was no avoidance or aversion. Arthur's hand patted his sister's hips, skin on skin, as he brushed by her curvaceous form to drop egg shells in the garbage. There was no care taken by her father on his return trip to avoid brushing against Lana's generous bare bosoms, nor did Lana seem to mind.
Lana noticed Hannah's gaze and smiled at her, asked her what she would like in her omelet.
Hannah offered to help, but Lana would not allow it, insisting that Arthur is the omelet master.
Hannah did her best to avoid looking down despite the magnetic draw of naked flesh. Her aunt's curves and her sizeable blond bush were hard to avoid, but what disturbed Hannah the most was her father's bare genitals. She couldn't help but be fascinated and repulsed simultaneously. Hannah hoped she didn't look as shocked as she felt. She had never seen a dick like her father's. It was extraordinarily long even in his limp state. It hung and swung as he moved around. He let it come to rest carelessly against the edge of the counter. Aunt Lana paid it no mind. Behind her father's long dick hung an equally oversized sack slung low with heavy testicles.
Hannah felt uneasy and wanted to leave, but she couldn't possibly allow herself to give the impression that she was less than okay with the naked human body in the middle of a nudist community. She did her best to keep a poker face and summoned her self-discipline to keep from staring at her father's odd genitalia.
Hannah looked at the flowers in the window as she pondered how huge her dad's cock must get when he has an erection.
Lana, done with cutting vegetables, approached Hannah and offered to take her laundry.
Hannah looked at her, confused for a moment, and then realized she meant the clothes she was wearing. Hannah went with it and pulled off her oversized t-shirt, handing it to Lana.
She felt her father's gaze turn to her. He couldn't remember what she wanted in her omelet.
"Whatever you're making, Dad, I don't care," she replied, feeling self conscious about her bare chest.
"Do you still hate mushrooms?" he asked, watching, as she pulled down her panties.
"Mushrooms are fine, Dad. I'm not a little girl anymore." She handed her underwear to her aunt and looked at her father. She saw her father doing it again—he was staring absently at her newly exposed pubis, and Hannah was again filled with regret that she had shaved herself bald.
"I know Sweetie," he said, his gaze still on her sex, as if he was talking to her genitals, "I just wasn't sure."
"I like a lot of things now that I didn't use to. I've changed a lot since you saw me last time." Hannah wondered if her father was even aware that he was so blatantly staring at her pussy, or if he just didn't care. Remembering her fantasies in the night, she started to feel aroused by his errant stare.
"Yeah," he agreed, his gaze finally working up her body to make eye contact. "It's been a long time. We have a lot of catching up to do. You've not only changed, you've grown up while I wasn't looking."
Hannah smiled at him. She jumped with a start when her aunt patted her bare ass.
"Put that cute little rump to work and go wake your brother up," Lana directed, "Tell him that if he doesn't get his butt out here, he's going to miss breakfast."
Hannah was relieved to have an excuse to leave. Her father's freakish dick, his staring at her pussy, it all made her feel uneasy. She left the room with the odd feeling, like she had the day before, that her dad was looking at her naked ass, but this time, she decided he probably was.
Her father's misplaced attention made her wonder. Whether he meant it that way or not, it felt sexual to her. Now that she had stepped out on that path into uncharted and unwholesome desires, she could not go back, and she felt a little twinge of sexual excitement.
She found her brother on a couch in the study, sleeping soundly under a thin sheet.
