This a follow-up to "Oh Daddy, Can't You See I'm Busy" published in the incest/taboo section 12/23/16. As usual, both stories can stand alone, though the reader will gain more insight by reading the first one as well.
*****
Marissa Morgan doesn't regret what she did with her dad Bud on that Saturday afternoon a few months ago. Still, unlike her dad, she's not looking for an encore. Bud, a self-admitted porn addict, had caught Marissa masturbating in her room, Then, per her invite, he entered to watch and ended up making love to his own daughter. Thrilling as it was for Marissa at the time, it left a sour aftertaste. She's rebuffed Bud's advances since then, yet it hasn't kept him from gawking at her when she's dressed in her cheerleader outfit or traipsing around the house in revealing bedroom attire. Once she welcomed it; now it makes her uncomfortable.
Her brother Stephen, however, is another matter. They're close in age and, well, he fits her ideal image of a hunk. He just entered his freshman year at university, a civil engineering major. She calls him a "straight arrow," both for his button-down, conservative looks and the way he leads his life. He plays football and lacrosse, eschews drugs, even marijuana, and gets weepy-eyed at ball games when they play the Star Spangled Banner. Like Bud, he's a Republican who supports conservative causes. He also, like his dad, has an eye for his sister. He tries to hide it, tries to look away when Marissa catches him checking her out. She loves it, plays it up for all its worth, lounging around the house before leaving for cheerleader practice, the uniform of her skirt stretched up the wazoo, trying not to laugh watching Stephen doing his best to be discreet but failing miserably.
Her power of seduction thrills her, though not to the point where she lacks self-insight. She's not at all blind to her ways. She knows she's somewhat of a narcissist, at least when it comes to her sexuality, and she can't help but being enamored with it, her unique biological gifts combined with a knack for seduction that transcends her obvious feminine assets. She revels in her ability to turn heads, perhaps even stiffen cocks at the shake of her pretty head or a twist of her lovely body, shapely, compact and athletic. Bud tells her that she reminds him of Tonya Harding, the disgraced ice skater who made scandalous headlines shortly before Marissa came into the world. "Tonya's body without, thank goodness, Tonya's attitude," he says. After doing some research on the web, she knows what he means.
She has less insight into her incestuous attraction to first her dad and now her brother. The attraction is mutual—obviously it is with Bud and with Stephen too, if his own gawking is any indication. Perhaps it's the taboo factor, she reasons, that fuels her sexual ambition and, by extension, theirs. That, and the incongruity of living in a sexually charged (some would call dysfunctional) household in upscale Mantua Estates that on the surface appears so straight and "normal." Her dad appears as the proverbial pillar of the community—Boy Scout leader, successful businessman, supporter of charitable causes, etc. Then there's her brother, the handsome, conservative, patriotic student-jock who sometimes launches into preachy commentary on politics and morality. One minute, he's railing against the porn industry's exploitation of women; the next, he's watching the very porn he rails against. Marissa knows because she's caught him doing it, once caught him in his room in front of his computer screen, his hand shoved down his shorts. Unlike Bud, Stephen is less than honest about his so-called vices, alcohol and porn. It amuses Marissa knowing that Stephen would call porn a vice. She, on the other hand, calls it for what she feels it is, another commodity. What a tempting "project" he'd make, she thinks, to expose what she feels is a hypocritical side of him. That said, she loves him dearly, loves him as a brother, sure, but also on a level that she knows would make many people squirm in discomfort, including Stephen. What a dashing hunk of manhood he is, not just in her eyes but in the eyes of her girlfriends and even her mom Monique who once said he reminded her of a young Joe Namath.
She decides to make her move on a weeknight when her parents are out for the evening. Marissa just started her sophomore year at a local, all-female college, and tonight she should be doing what Stephen's doing, studying. Instead, she's in her room, modeling one of her sexy nighttime outfits in front of her full-length mirror, psyching herself up to enter his room wearing one of them. She wasn't subtle in making her desires known to Bud, and she sees no reason to change strategy with Stephen. Still, she'll need a pretense for going in there. She figures that seeking his help with trigonometry will work better than simply prancing in and spreading her legs. Besides, it's not all pretense, for she really could use some help.
With textbook in hand, her light brown hair set in bangs and ponytail, she steps barefoot up to his door and knocks. Upon entering, she sees that he's dressed in his typical house-lounging duds, a black Oakland Raiders football jersey and gray Under Armour shorts. He doesn't turn from his laptop until she's beside his desk. Then his dark brown eyes widen, as he looks her over from head to toe. The thin, blue nightie she wears doesn't leave much to the imagination. It barely covers her skimpy yellow panties, leaves exposed most of her white, curvy thighs and half her boobs.
"You're the math whiz, so I thought you could help me with my trig." She says this with a straight face, with nary a hint of suggestion on her pretty features, her cute turned-up nose and her adorable mouth that widens into an adorable smile.
He chuckles. "You're not exactly attired for tutoring." His eyes continue to flit over her body.
"No? Well, I can change if you'd like, if you're distracted." She eases herself on the edge of his bed and crosses her legs. Her tone decidedly rhetorical, she says, "You're not distracted, are you?"
"Of course not. What's so distracting about a beautiful, sexy chick in see-through lingerie?" Pause. "No, look sis," he says chuckling, "I can manage. After all, it's not like we're strangers."
"Right," she says, confused about where he's coming from. His sarcasm suggests he is indeed distracted. But then, he might be joking. Either way, she thinks that on some level they might BE strangers. While only a year apart, they've rarely had a heart to heart talk about anything, and that includes the ongoing sexual tension between them. They've never talked it out, something she feels is necessary, if for no other reason than it could bring them closer. One thing she'd like to keep secret is what happened between her and their dad. Like Bud, she sees no reason to say anything, not to Stephen, and certainly not to her mom.
She opens her book to a page with a mess of equations and diagrams of circles and triangles. "I can't make heads or tails of this stuff," she says. "I know you've got your own work to do, but I could really use the help."
"No problem," he says, spins his chair around to face her and then places the book on his lap. "Let's see what we've got."
As he looks over the page, she uncrosses her legs and leans back against the wall with her knees bent, admiring Stephen's sexy masculinity, his hairy muscular legs and thick shoulders, his black curly hair and piercing blue eyes. She can just imagine what he'll look like when that beginning mustache is fully grown in. "Stephen, did anybody ever tell you that you're the ideal specimen of brains and brawn?"
He lifts his head from the book. "Where did that come from? I thought we were doing trig."
"We are, I just felt compelled to say it." She catches him staring at her crotch. "Are you sure you're not distracted?" She grins.
"Are you sure you're not trying to distract me?" Not a naïve statement as conveyed by his faux look of admonishment.
"I could lie and say I'm not."
Looking up from the book, he locks his eyes with hers, green and flirty. "So that's what you really came in here for, isn't it?"
She puts her legs down and slides to the edge of his bed. "Honestly, I really do need help with trig," she says, tugging at the hem of her nightgown. "It's just that I find you irresistibly hot."
"We're siblings, Rissa, blood siblings. I know we don't exactly look like it, but we are."
"And do you remind yourself of that when you gawk at me in my cheerleader outfit?"
He shrugs and looks away. Then turning to face her, he says, "We're getting into some heavy territory, here, sis, heavier than your trig homework in its own way."
"Long overdue, don't you think?" She crosses her legs and pats his hand.
"What's long overdue?"
"A frank discussion about our feelings. I love you, Stephen, love you as a brother. But it's more complicated than that because you also turn me on. I think you're incredibly hot, and from the way I've seen you check me out, I'd say you might feel the same. Do you confirm or deny?"
He shakes his head. "This is crazy stuff, sis, even dangerous stuff."
"Dangerous? How so?"
"You're hinting, if not proposing that we engage in some perverted exploratory behavior here. If you haven't heard, it's called incest."
