Jackin Jacks

Normal disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any similarities to persons living or dead is coincidental. All persons depicted in sexual acts are at least 18 years of age and consenting adults. This story involves incest. If that's not your thing, then you should stop reading now.

Special Note: This story is also very light on actual sexual content. If that's going to deter from your reading pleasure, do us both a favor, and choose a different story. Otherwise, enjoy yourself.

Special thanks go to Elmer Studd for their editing & beta reading efforts. Huzzah!

*****

The blue-eyed blonde looked up at me briefly. She undid her blouse and unhooked her bra, letting her huge breasts swing freely for me to enjoy. She rubbed her nipples quickly then grabbed the waistband of my slacks and began to undo my belt. She eased the zipper down while looking right into my eyes. She pulls my slacks down to my ankles, boxers and all, in one fluid movement. She leaned back on her knees and took a hold of my thickening cock. She stroked it in her tiny hands and moved closer. She lifts my manhood up and starts to lick the base with her soft, warm, tongue. Then she opened her mouth and slid the head in just past her lips and sucked lightly. It slips farther into her warm mouth, then a bit farther, and then farther still. She slides my dick out from between her lips slowly, swirling her tongue around the head before sliding it back in her wet mouth. I feel myself throbbing harder and harder.

As she got going, I watched her full tits juggle with each movement. Man, they were amazing. I watched my cock disappear in and out of her face. I tilted my head back and enjoyed the sensations as she sucked on my dick. Slowly she pulled her mouth halfway up my cock, and I groaned as her teenage tongue swirled eagerly around my dick. She swallowed down again, sending tremors of pleasure through my body. Her right hand was caressing my balls and her head began bobbing with a more regular motion. The soft moans emitted from deep in her throat began to vibrate on my dick and added additional sensations. Back and forth she sucked, using her hand to stroke me in between while she caught her breath. She got me closer and closer to my reward each time. She smiled up at me with her lips around my dick and hummed some more. Faster, then slower, as she built up the anticipation.

Suddenly my orgasm hit with no warning, no way to prepare, just BAM! I was flooding her mouth with my thick cum. She swallowed the first few blasts, but as they continued, semen dripped from her mouth. She stopped, swallowed, and took a deep, satisfied breath as she smiled up at me again. She kept stroking, causing several more waves of cum to coat her hand and drip onto the tile floor. She leaned back and toyed with her tits before me as I fell back into the chair, doing my best to breathe.

"So, now do you think we can do something about my grade?" She asked, buttoning her blouse again to cover her glorious orbs.

"I told you, I would see what I could do." I managed to get the words out between gasps for air. I told her as I pulled my slacks back up. "Professor Kramer grades your research papers and that's the majority of the score."

She gave me some sad puppy-dog eyes as she picked up her phone and purse.

"I'll try, Miss Roberts, I will try." I said, as I sat back down behind my desk.

"Rogers. Cynthia Rogers." She corrected me as she turned around. I watched her hips sway, enjoying the view of her round ass, as she left my office. Damn I love co-eds.

I suppose I should explain. My name is Jackson James. If the name sounds familiar, then you were probably a college basketball fan a few years ago.

I was a high school basketball star. My coaches called me the best pure athlete in Morris High history, and that includes a number of Olympic medalists over the years. As a 6'8 shooting guard with ball handling skills and great court vision, I was everyone's top recruit. All the big schools wanted me. I'm sure you know the names; Duke, Kansas, North Carolina, Kentucky, Gonzaga, UCLA, just to name a few. They all came at me hard to go to school there. State U. did also, which was a bit of a surprise, as they're primarily known as a football school. The school had recently hired a new Athletic Director and head basketball coach. The new AD decided they were going to try to build the basketball program up as well. Naturally, since I was the nearby local prep star, I was recruiting target number one.

Now, I will admit, as an athlete, I was pretty spoiled throughout high school. Things tend to come easily for the sports stars. I had extra tutoring chances, even if I didn't really need it. I got away with all sorts of small rules infractions. I never served detention for turning in a paper late, being tardy, or skipping a class, things like that. And I soon got used to girls throwing themselves at me. I rarely ever had to make the first move. I lost my virginity the first day of my freshman year. It didn't hurt that I came back to school having grown 8 inches and put on 30 pounds of mostly muscle over the summer. One of the junior girls, a volleyball player, took me into the coaches office during lunch and let me bend her over the trainer's desk. It was quick, but I didn't care. Afterall, it was just the first of what turned out to be a ton of pussy heading my way. I wasn't disappointed.

All four years of high school seemed to go that way. If I was in the mood, finding a girl to hook up with wasn't much of a chore. I don't think I had a dry week all through high school. I went down on the principal's daughter in the back seat of his brand-new Cadillac. I screwed girls in empty classrooms more times than I can count over my four years. I had a threesome in the second-floor girl's restroom. The highlight of it all had to be this: The guys on the basketball team had a betting pool my senior year. We all put $100 in a spare locker, and the guy who nailed the entire varsity cheerleading squad first would win it all. I bought myself some brand-new Oakley's and a new iPad just one week later with my winnings.

So anyway, back to State U. I decided to take their scholarship offer. And by pure coincidence - nudge nudge, wink wink - I was suddenly driving a brand-new truck. Also, coincidentally, I never seemed to have to pay for anything I wanted around town. Meals, shoes, electronics, clothes, you name it. If I wanted them, they were mine. All unofficially, of course.

Officially, I was just another poor college kid without a dime to my name that didn't come from my lower-middle class parents. I had dreams of playing in the NBA, making millions, getting a shoe contract, dating supermodels, and being an international megastar. Nothing, I thought, could derail that dream.

Well, fate had different plans for me. In 4 years of college I managed to tear or injure pretty much every major ligament in my right knee. I tore both my ACL and MCL my freshman year during practice in a collision with a teammate. Mid-sophomore season, my LCL was next, and I followed that up with a hairline fracture of my kneecap with a meniscus tear as a chaser my junior year. I worked hard, concentrated on my rehab, and came back from all of that for the beginning of my senior season. I scored 45 points in the opening game on national television at Michigan State... and promptly tore my Achilles tendon while making the game winning shot. That clip was all over the sports channels for a long time. I was done for the season, again. Thus ended my college basketball career and, along with that, any realistic dream of playing basketball for a living.

So, after another long rehab, and with no more college sports eligibility, I finally gave up that dream and focused back on my degree. I was a history major, and part of the appeal of attending State U. was the fantastic, award-winning, history department. Professor Eloy Kramer is an icon in his field and having him as my advisor led me to not only graduate, but then enroll in grad school and get my master's degree. I'm currently working on my PhD.

Now, those additional degrees weren't covered by my athletic scholarship, and no one was paying for my every need anymore. Luckily, Professor Kramer liked me enough to hand-pick me to be his GTA, (Graduate Teaching Assistant). It paid fairly well, unlike at some schools, which meant it was enough to cover my rent and basic living expenses, while allowing me to continue my work on my degrees. I also got an office in the basement of the library, which was pretty secluded. That seclusion came in handy.

As the GTA, it was my job to grade the weekly class assignments and help the undergrads with his lectures. I stayed around after his classes to answer questions. Most days, I would end up basically giving his lectures all over again after Kramer was done. He was brilliant, and the university liked having the leading authority in his field leading the department. But his lectures were often hard to follow, as he would meander off topic to go into details that were well over the comprehension level of undergrad students in a lecture hall.

Life was good, I must admit. I had a nice gig, got to work under the best mind in the field, and, to paraphrase the famous movie quote "I like those college girls because, while I get older, they always stay the same age." It seems like there are a couple of girls each semester that end up coming to me during term begging for some extra credit or special help, all the while flaunting their assets. And, while I can honestly say I've never changed anyone's grade, I have taken advantage of the opportunities that presented themselves over the last few years. I've had more than my fair share of sex with co-eds in my office. Much like high school, I've never made the first move on any girl from one of my classes.

But really, can you blame me though? Hot college babes, basically throwing themselves at me without me having to lift a finger. I'm tall and still pretty well built. I still work out regularly even though my playing days are over. Plus, I'm single. I am more than willing to take a roll in the hay with some 19-year-old hottie when the opportunity presents itself. And present themselves, they did.

This one left my office. My office hours had ended 30 minutes earlier. Curiously, they always seem to come by with 5 minutes to spare for some reason. It was Friday. I locked up and headed home for the weekend. I climbed into my now ten-year-old truck and checked my phone. I had missed a call from my sister. I hadn't heard from here in a couple of weeks and wondered how she was doing.

Kelly is my youngest sibling and the only girl among the four of us. I'm the oldest at 28. Anthony is 26 and working as an aviation mechanic in Houston. He's married and has a little girl. My niece is 2 years old now, I think. My other brother, Lewis, is 24 and an officer in the Navy. Right now, I believe, he is on a ship somewhere in the North Atlantic. My baby sister Kelly is 19, and in her sophomore year here at State U. She has blossomed into quite the track and field star.

As brother and sister, we get along well enough. She seems to call me once or twice a week. She has come by my place a few times, sleeping on the couch when her roommate's boyfriend came up from Stanford to visit. And I've fed her a couple times when she has gotten back to campus too late from some field trip and the dining hall was closed. She's my baby sister, and of course I love her, but she was also like nine years old when I left home, so I don't know too much about what she was like as a teen growing up. Selfishly, I was too wrapped up in being the Big Man on Campus around here to pay much attention to things back home.

Kelly and I are as opposite as night and day. I'm tall and fairly well built, where she's not quite five feet tall and might weigh ninety pounds soaking wet. I have jet black hair, my mother's Italian features, and olive-colored skin. Kelly is a natural blonde with bright green eyes and light skin, with freckles on her arms, looking much more like our father than anyone else. If you didn't know any better, you might think we were not related at all.

I called her back. I could tell immediately that something was wrong. Kelly was crying. She was stranded at some restaurant across town. She had a fight with her boyfriend, so he got pissed off at her and left her in the middle of the street. Of course, I raced right over to get her. I felt kind of guilty as I drove. I mean, there I was getting my cock gobbled in my office by some big-tittied blonde, while she was having a breakdown across town and actually needed me. Sometimes I can be a real tool.

I arrived on the scene to find her sobbing on a bench outside the entrance of some casual-dining chain place. I had to physically pick her up and all but carry her to my truck. She was a mess, makeup streaked across her face, eyes puffy and red. Her yellow strapless top spotted with patches that were wet with her tears. She curled up in the seat and was very quiet for most of the ride back. After several silent minutes, I got her to open up a bit to me as we made it back to campus.

It turned out her boyfriend, Greg, had talked her into going to a hotel suite with him and several of his friends that night. The plan was for her to have sex with all of them at once. At first, she said she was excited by the idea, but then got nervous and scared the more she thought about it. She told Greg that afternoon that she had changed her mind about doing it. He got pissed off, told her she had ruined all his plans, and kicked her out of his car right there in the street.

My jaw hit the ground. She was going to do what?! All the righteous indignation you would expect came flooding out of me. How dare he convince her to do such a distasteful thing! I ought to go beat the shit out of the little fucker. I expressed that sentiment to my sister, but Kelly begged me not to. Her bright green eyes cut me in half. Fine, he could live, at least for now. Honestly, I didn't really know Greg. We had been introduced once or twice, but other than the guy Kelly was hanging on, I didn't know a thing about what kind of person he was. Well, now I knew. He's an absolute piece of garbage asshole.

I turned my attention back to my sister. I pulled up in front of her dorm and watched as she shakily tried to undo the seat belt. I asked if her roommate was home. She said no, Isabella had gone home for the weekend. She would be alone tonight. I told her to go upstairs, pack a bag and come stay with me. She smiled back at me with her bright green eyes and vanished into the dorms.

I sat there waiting, trying to push angry thoughts about Greg to the back of my mind. I hadn't planned much for the night. I had some papers to grade this weekend, and figured I'd go get in a workout at some point. That was really it. I did have a date on Saturday night, but I was sure Kelly would be doing better by then. I scrolled through my social media feeds, seeing what friends were up to, when Kelly returned and climbed back into the truck.

She thanked me again, hugged my neck, then just hung there for a bit. She said she really didn't want to be alone tonight. She was so ashamed of herself. I told her there was no need, that he was the one who needed to look in the mirror. As we headed off to my place, she started to open up to me like she never had before. Apparently, Greg had been pushing her to do more and more adventurous things in the bedroom for a while now. He started planting the idea of her fucking him and his friends a few weeks ago. He would bring it up constantly, saying how hot it would be and how much pleasure she could get out of being in, what amounted to, a small gang bang. The way I saw it, he basically wore her down into agreeing to it. I got angry again. This piece of shit needed a good pounding. I knew some guys who would beat his ass for the fun of it. But Kelly insisted that I not get involved. She still had unresolved feelings for Greg and wasn't sure what she wanted at the moment. I couldn't believe she wasn't done with the guy, but she said he had been so sweet and loving to her for the other few months they had dated. I knew in my head he was setting this up all along, but now wasn't the time to argue with her about him.

As we got to my apartment and climbed out of the truck, a scene flashed in front of my eyes. My freshman year here at State U., three of my teammates and I had run a train on this sorority chick. Why, you ask? It was raining outside that day, and we were bored. That's it. We all took turns with her, filling her pussy and mouth with cock at all times. I know I came in her at least three times, twice in the mouth and at least once in her well-used pussy. I'm sure the other guys were right there with me. Now, don't get me wrong, no one was forced into anything. This chick had agreed to it, but I'm sure we had to convince her. At the time it was hilarious, just fucking her in whatever hole we wanted to as she lay spread-eagle on her dorm bed. In hindsight, we were just using her. It was a game, a joke. I didn't see her as a person with any feelings. Nor did I care at the time. She was just a fucktoy for that moment. I had never met her before that day, and I don't think I ever saw her again afterwards. Kelly was apparently just minutes away from doing something very similar. I got sick to my stomach. I realized I couldn't be that mad at Greg, I was apparently the same kind of asshole he was.

Kelly vanished into my bedroom to use the bathroom and emerged a few minutes later in some short shorts, pink fuzzy bunny slippers, and one of my high school basketball t-shirts. I remembered I had given it to her when I left home because she was sad that I was moving away. Kelly plopped down on the couch and begged me to order some Chinese food. Kung Pow Palace delivered our meal shortly thereafter. She sat in silence beside me and ate, eyes glued to whatever was on the TV. She put her food down and cuddled up against me as I finished off my rice. Her head was leaning on my arm awkwardly, so I reached around her and pulled her into me closer. She nuzzled up into my chest for the next couple hours as we found some comedy reruns for us to watch on TV.

Soon enough, Kelly was asleep. I gingerly extracted my arm from her and laid her on the couch. I pulled the light blanket off the back of the couch and covered her up. She never even stirred once. I tiptoed back into my room, stripped down naked, and climbed into bed. Surprisingly, even though it was relatively early, I fell asleep quickly.

I don't know what the time was, but when I awoke, something felt different. As the haze of sleep lifted, I realized I wasn't alone in bed. I was on my back, and as I regained consciousness, I realized Kelly was in bed with me, snuggled up tight against me. She had her head on my shoulder, with my arm around her back, while her arm was draped over my abdomen. She definitely wasn't there when I fell asleep. I wondered why she was there, and then wondered how long she had been in bed with me. Then I froze. I could feel her leg draped over mine under the sheet covering my lower half. I pried my eyes open and realized, although I was still covered from the waist down, Kelly had gotten under the sheets beside me. That shouldn't have been a huge deal, except...

I looked down again and could now fully feel what was visually obvious. I had the mother of all morning wood erections going on. My cock was standing straight up, stretching his full length towards the ceiling and making a comically large tent of the sheet covering him. I was stuck. I was afraid if she woke up, she would see my dick hard like that. I didn't think I could cover it up with a blanket or make it less obvious without moving and waking her up. I didn't know what to do. The more I thought about it, the more my dick seemed to twitch, as if it wanted to draw attention to its current state. 'Bad dick,' I thought to myself. I tried thinking about baseball, the war in Afghanistan, bugs crawling all over me, anything I could come up with to help lessen the discomfort I was in. Nothing worked.