Hero and Leander Book I: Julia's Dilemma
Chapter 5: Soul Searching

Copyright© 2016 by The Slim Rhino

Young-Adult Sex Story: Chapter 5: Soul Searching - Two kids with gobs of money - They couldn't possibly have problems, could they? Well, coming from a family with a history of tragic deaths? Can Jason and Julia make sure that the O'Connell clan survives another generation?

Caution: This Young-Adult Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/ft   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Humor   Incest   Brother   Sister   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting   Lactation   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism   Tit-Fucking   Nudism  

Jason

We were eating breakfast in our room and I was surprise that Julia had come back from the bathroom, only wearing panties. Even when we were alone, going topless was still a rather rare occurrence with her. Years of living like a nun were a hard habit to shake. I got the impression it was her way to get used to a prolonged state of undress. After all, her company's 'Nude Day' was only eight days away.

"You sore, honey?" I asked, unashamedly ogling her perfect breasts while eating,

"A little, which confuses me a bit," Julia answered. "You were so gentle and careful, yet I've never felt it the next morning before. Mind you, it's 'good sore' so to speak. I don't mind the least bit."

"Have you considered that it was perhaps the first time you've done it? I get the impression that perhaps you didn't have as many sex, and certainly not as kinky as you believe. After all you say you were always drunk and don't remember it. Can it be that some guys just bragged about something that didn't really happen?"

She became pensive. "Maybe you have a point," she conceded, slowly sipping her coffee. "Well, I guess we know that I definitely lost my virginity at some point, but I don't remember ever having felt any soreness anywhere, except for that morning when I woke up on a messed up bed sheet. Now that you're saying it, it's also the only time I ever woke up completely naked. The question is, what's the point in bragging about having had sex with me although they hadn't?"

"Let me tell you something," I said and looked at her over the rim of my cup. "You said I'm different from other men. Unfortunately that's true to some extent. First of all, I don't tell anyone if I have sex or not. Many other guys my age want to keep up some kind of 'street cred'. I guess you're not really aware of just how hot you are. You are too hung up on your narrow hips. Trust me, nobody notices those if you show even the tiniest bit of cleavage."

Julia giggled and blushed a little.

"Scoring a hot girl like you raises their 'street cred'. Others of the same mindset would question their manliness if they came back from spending the night with such a bombshell without having gotten into your pants, and they also think that if it is known that they are some kind of great lover, they'll have it easier with other girls. Hanna's youngest brother Ferenc told me all that. He's a senior at high school."

"So basically I've not only been date raped at least once, I've also been bullshitted a lot of times," Julia sighed.

"Better bullshitted than really having done something, don't you think?" I reminded her. "I think this whole thing of you turning into a sex-monster when drunk is complete and utter bollocks. They made you believe that so they could justify the next morning that they'd groped you all night or even done more. That night in Washington when you'd seen me ... uh ... going about my business..."

She giggled again and I could feel a slight blush on my face.

"Anyway," I continued. "You weren't drunk, but quite heavily buzzed. But even in that condition you flinched when I took off your blouse – and you still had your brassiere on, mind you."

"There's an easy way to find out," Julia suggested with a grin. "You're not much of a drinker most of the times. When we get home, Hanna and I get sloshed and you're the gallant knight who keeps watch over us helpless women. Then we'll know if I get sexually aggressive or not."

"If you like," I smiled back. "I've only seen Hanna drunk once – on my eighteenth birthday. Doing a Csárdás dance in the nude with her is the most hilarious thing I've ever done. It's a one-on-one dance with a normal dance hold – you know, holding hands with my right and her left hand, and my left hand around her waist. Except that her right hand would have belonged on my shoulder, not around my cock."

Julia doubled over and laughed hysterically. "Oh won't that be a fun evening?"

I became a bit pensive though.

"Julia, I'm happy you can laugh about this and haven't gotten any long-lasting fears out of it, but it seems clear that you're still prone to losing memory or getting disoriented when drunk. Promise me you will have me or someone trustworthy watch out for you whenever you are at any social function where alcohol is served? I've just joked about it, but perhaps that test could be even helpful. I could observe how things progress when you drink, you know, knowing when to get you home before we have reason to worry."

Julia became serious too, nodding. "That's actually why I suggested it. Linda told me that there'll be a lot of wine and beer on that 'Nude Day', and I can say 'no thanks' only so often. There are a few consultants, good people like Jeremy Harcourt or Melinda Newton, who've single-handedly earned our company millions this year. I'd be feeling like an ungrateful git, not being able to share at least a glass with them."

"Go for beer, honey. It's got only five percent alcohol and you can nurse one forever."

Julia nodded. Having finished our coffee, we started to pack our stuff. I had to force myself not to cackle as Julia held off getting her top half covered until we were ready to go. It was hard to miss she'd paraded her beautiful boobs for me. But all amusement aside, I could see she forced herself for my sake, and that was not nearly as pleasant as watching Hanna, who did that because she liked it. I made a mental note to talk to my sister about that.

Julia

Since we were flying 'only' about two miles high, the water seemed endless and the last remnants of Iceland quickly disappeared under the horizon. This is the part of flying over water that I will probably never get used to. Perhaps I should take up Jason on his offer to learn how to fly myself. He had an instructor license, but the one thing I would never be comfortable with, was knowing that with both of us in the same aircraft, we were tempting fate. I made a mental note to talk to Jason and Hanna. It may sound premature, but I wanted to get started on securing our clan's survival. I knew Hanna was more than agreeable to the idea, but it wasn't a decision to be taken without Jason's input and consent.

Our morning's talk still ran through my mind. I sort of had suppressed the memories of the few months after our parents death. I could have easily lost custody of Jason had it become known that I regularly drank myself unconscious the first twelve weeks after their funeral, unable to cope with the pain. What really pained me was, that whoever took my virginity and all those others who later claimed I had done the most unspeakable things with them, had all known why I was drinking. Instead of helping me, they had used me to raise their questionable 'street cred', as Jason had explained.

Thank god for Hanna. Not only had she taken care of Jason whenever I didn't come home because I was lying passed out and wasted in someone's bedroom, she had also worked on getting me out of my funk whenever I did come home, and she did it without ever being patronizing. I think without this Hungarian angel of a woman, there would have been a good chance that I may have ended up an alcoholic.

I'm sure some people would probably question my devotion to Jason, considering I allowed him to have sex with her whenever he or she fancied it, but I didn't define my love for this sweetheart pilot of mine through sex. For me it was just a way to show someone how much you love him or her, and I knew he loved Hanna as much as I did. She was my best friend and more of an ersatz-mum to Jason than I had ever been. Of course that sounded weird, because he was having regular sexual contact with her, but then, for the last ten days he had also had sexual relations with his real sister, so maybe one shouldn't get too hung up on semantics.

Of course that wasn't without drawbacks. I knew Jason was happy with what we had and did, but with Hanna's adventurous nature in sexual things, I couldn't shake the feeling of being the second best deal for my dear brother. I'd seen how much it turned him on seeing Hanna traipse around naked and blindfolded, but I didn't feel comfortable with either practice. I could force myself to do it to please him, except that I would fail. Jason was no idiot. I bet he had already planned to talk to me about my topless run in the morning. I had seen it in his eyes. He liked ogling my boobs, but I also saw a certain sadness in them. He'd probably seen right through me, knowing that I would have preferred to wear a bra and a shirt at the time.

On the other hand, especially if most of the sexual encounters I had attributed to myself didn't really happen, according to Jason's theory, then I had practically no idea about my own sexuality. I had initiated our first anal sex the night before based on the (probably false) information of having done it before, and assuming that Jason liked it, after all I had walked in on him shagging Hanna's bum somewhat enthusiastically a few months back. It was by sheer luck that I found out that I actually liked it too, no doubt also down to Jason's gentle and caring technique.

It looked like we had to find out what I really liked. I had a few ideas, but I needed some more time to think about them. No better time then now, was there? I couldn't talk to Jason anyway. When he was in the cockpit, he was a completely different person, concentrated on the job at hand, which also explained why he had tired so much the day before. He hadn't spoken a single word since the start, other than what he had to say via radio to air traffic control. Last time he had acknowledged a hand-off to 'Sondre Stromfjord Control', which I took to mean we were already closer to Greenland than we were to Iceland, where we had started. Well, I could not see it yet.

Getting back to my thoughts about my apparently quite undeveloped intimate life, I tried to make a mental list of things that I liked. I definitely liked giving him blow-jobs. It was such fun feeling his 'best piece' throb when it was in my mouth and I twirled my tongue around it, and he really got going when I ran my tip of the tongue along the 'seam' on the underside of his impressive organ. 'Normal' sex? – check – Anal sex – check. I had to force myself not to distract him with a giggle. Jesus, I started to think in check-lists after he had made me read through one while landing at Reykjavik.

I knew he worshipped my boobs and I loved it when he sucked on them like a baby. Maybe it was a subconscious thing due to never being able to have an own baby who would ever suck any milk out of them. When he gently wrapped his lips around either of my nipples and started to suck gently, it drove me completely potty. Did he like it as much as I? How would he react if I asked him if he would rest his head in my lap, sucking on my boob as if I was feeding a baby? Would he be grossed out? Would he be happy? It looked like there was no other chance to find out but ask, but right now was not the moment to do it. He was too concentrated on flying.

My spirits got somewhat higher when I saw the first signs of land on the horizon – Greenland was ahead.

Jason

I could tell Julia was thinking about something really hard. She probably didn't realize she did it, but she always ran the tip of her tongue against the inside of her cheeks when she was sunk in deep thought. As just about everything about that gorgeous goddess that went by the name 'my sister', she made it look cute. Discussion about it had to wait until we got home though, unless it was really heavy stuff, in which case she'd probably tell me after landing at Kulusuk on the east coast of Greenland. We had just been given approach vectors to runway 11 and I handed Julia the checklist. She smiled at me and began reading out the items, as she had done at Reykjavik.


The stopover would probably have made Ryanair proud. Julia and I had drunk a coffee and taken a toilet break while the plane was refuelled. We had run into a rather busy scene with a Dash-8 of Flugfelag Islands and a Dash-7 of Air Greenland being serviced on the apron. We could have gotten on our way again even faster if it wasn't for the fact that I had asked the Air Greenland crew if I could have a look at their Dash-7. It was a four-engined turbo-prop, seating 50, but it still needed no more runway than our small Trislander. 'Holy shit' pretty much summed up what this plane was capable of. One of the pilots told me that Air Greenland planned to phase them out in favour of Dash-8's, and I made a note to get in contact with his airline – I wanted to get my hands on one or two of these babies. A fifty-seater that uses less runway than our 12-seater caravan, how brilliant was that?

Julia had just read out the last item on the 'Before take-off' checklist and I pushed the three power levers forward. The plane started to hurtle down the gravel runway.

"Seventy-five, rotate," she announced and I pulled the yoke slightly. With its nose-up attitude the plane almost rotated on its own. My beautiful co-pilot read me through the take-off check list and we were well on our way flying the standard instrument departure route. I could tell that Julia was starting to enjoy this. Not so much because she had suddenly become a huge fan of flying, but because she had something to do, and something we could do together. Air traffic control gave us instructions to climb to 13.000 feet. That was quite close to the maximum this plane could do, but wee needed to fly that high as the ice shelf that covers Greenland is up to nearly 12.000 feet high in some places and even though we wouldn't come across those bits, we would hardly have any more than 4.000 feet between ourselves and the ground for most of the flight. Despite flying at two and a half miles above sea level.

Julia

God this was beautiful. You'd think flying nearly three hours over what is basically a huge chunk of ice would bore you stiff, but the beautiful reflections of the sun light on the ice were almost hypnotizing. It was crazy to think that a huge honking island like Greenland was basically uninhabitable except for its rim. Imagine an American pizza. The cheese filled rim is where the people live and the whole huge thing in between is just ice, almost two miles thick. It boggled the mind.

 
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