Chapter 2

I woke convinced I'd dreamed the events from the night. I knew how hard the previous day had hit me emotionally, and though I still had no answers about my son and daughter's 'games, ' I utterly dismissed the words which had penetrated my consciousness as the disconnected ramblings of my overactive imagination set free during a time of stress and anxiety.

My son had called and left a message that he was staying with his friend that day and wouldn't be home until Sunday. I was somewhat relieved, honestly, because I had no idea what to say to him. I couldn't get images out of my head of him holding my daughter's panties, his own sister's scents and wetness in the crotch, while he masturbated. I could almost hear him cumming, shooting his semen into Kira's underwear. I couldn't help seeing what my daughter would do with the creamy load he left there for her, tasting it with her tongue, playing with herself as she ate her brother's incestuous sperm.

I tried to clear those thoughts and found myself feeling rather unwell. I went to the kitchen and made coffee, no sign of my daughter early in the morning. For that, too, I was thankful. I knew I needed to talk to Kira further, but I had no idea what to say.

My daughter came down from her bedroom just before noon, looking weary, wearing her pink and white pajamas. I noticed that she wore no bra, as was usual at home, and Kira's breasts had grown large enough that the old top was tight and clearly showed my daughter's dark areolae and nipples underneath. I looked away quickly and offered to make her lunch. She grunted an acceptance and sat at the table without another word.

I leaned against the counter while she ate, stewing over what to say. I don't know what finally made me ask, "Kira ... are you still a virgin?"

She choked on her toast, swallowing orange juice for a moment before she was able to catch her breath. "Yes..." she finally stated softly.

"Okay..."

Then I realized something else, and I probed, "so ... this mystery boy ... the one you thought you might need birth control for ... you were talking about your brother, weren't you?"

Kira stared ahead, her hair down over her shoulders, somewhat blocking my view of her face. After a moment of silence, she shrugged, and looked down at her plate. "I don't know." I'd come to recognize that as Kira's affirmative response to a question which was uncomfortable or embarrassing.

"Have you and Dex ... talked about this?"

"No! No ... we've just ... you know ... done the panty thing..."

"So ... he's not asked you to show your body to him, or ... pressured you to touch him?"

Kira shook her head, looking in my direction but past me. "No, Mom ... no ... we never really talk about anything like that, just ... he gets my panties and I get them back, sometimes ... that's it..."

"But," I replied, "you've considered what it might be like ... doing something more?"

She shrugged again. "I don't know..."

I sat at the table and took Kira's hand, running my thumb along the top of her fingers. "It's okay to be curious, Kira. We're all curious sometimes, but ... Dexter is your brother ... I know it might not make sense but you can't explore that with him..."

"Because it's wrong?" she said softly.

"Yes, it's wrong."

"Why?" came her quiet response.

"Because ... because ... you just don't do that with your family. You just don't." I couldn't really formulate words which expressed exactly why it was wrong. Something tugged at my memories, something buried deep, something which tried to bubble into my thoughts but was too-quickly washed away. "Because ... just because..."

Kira said nothing, staring beyond where I sat. She looked at me a moment, her eyes searching mine, before she looked away again and said meekly, "so ... what we do ... it's wrong, isn't it? We're bad people..."

"No," I replied without thought, "no ... don't ... don't think that, Kira. No, you're not bad, just ... curious."

"So if we're not bad for doing it ... why is it wrong?"

"Because I said it's wrong, that's why," I stated, frustrated by my inability to come up with a much better reason. "Because ... you're brother and sister and ... you don't do those things together..."

"We aren't hurting anyone..."

"No ... I know..."

"And ... I like it, Mom ... Dex does too ... not like we're fucking..."

"Kira Marie Peterson! Language!"

"Sorry," she said, sounding less chastised than I'd have liked, "but it's true ... we're just ... playing."

I sat silently a moment. I finally managed to calm myself and said, "Listen, Kira ... I just think it's wrong for you and your brother to know each other that way. Your body and his are private things, and the way you share ... intimate parts of yourselves with each other ... it crosses a line ... He shouldn't know what you smell like ... down there, and you shouldn't be ... doing whatever you do with his ejaculate..." Scenes of my son cumming in Kira's panties exploded in my head, and despite my revulsion, I felt myself growing wet.

I shuddered involuntarily, and Kira eyed me a moment, seeming to notice the way I'd grown flushed and sweaty. It was all I could do not to yell at her, mostly out of my own guilt. I managed not to do so, instead saying calmly, "it's okay that you're curious, Kira. It's okay ... you and your brother are not bad ... and ... maybe it's not wrong in the moral sense ... I'm just ... very uncomfortable, okay? I worry where this will lead if you and Dexter keep this up..."

Kira's expression was solemn but stubborn as well. "What will you say to him, Mom?"

"I don't know," I said, meaning it honestly. "I can barely manage to talk to you about this..."

"Mom ... I'm sorry he took your panties, okay? I never thought he'd do that ... I thought ... he just liked mine ... I guess he likes yours, as well..."

"So it seems..." I said, resigned to the truth, "and that just makes it all the more difficult..."

"I won't let him have mine again..."

"I'd like to believe you, Kira."

"Not if I can help it ... but ... sometimes ... I just get ... you know ... excited ... not like I have a boyfriend or anything. I don't have a guy who likes me or thinks I'm sexy..."

"Oh, Kira, I doubt that is true. I'm sure your classmates think you're great, you're just kinda shy with them. Maybe they think you don't like them."

She nodded. "Maybe I don't..."

"What? Why?"

Kira frowned, "because it's true..."

"But ... but you like ... your brother?"

She shrugged, "maybe..."

"Oh, Kira..." I massaged her hand a moment, not knowing what to say. "Promise me ... this won't lead to more, alright? That this ... game ... won't become incest ... promise me..."

Her tone was not convincing. "I promise..."

I napped in the late afternoon, so tired from the stress and emotional moments that I was unable to talk to Kira further, and I mostly wanted to avoid her and keep to myself. Thoughts of what my kids were doing, even if it wasn't physical incest, left me distraught and confused, and I was unable to separate my disgust from my own curious arousal. I drifted in and out of sleep, vivid dreams of my daughter licking my son's cum from her own panties had my cunt soaking in my underwear.

Remember what we did, Penelope?

I barely registered the words, again unsure if they were spoken or just imagined. I listened a moment, responded softly, "what?"

Remember what we did? You and me?

The soft, feminine voice brought familiarity, a distant recognition which didn't quite surface. "Who are you?" I said quietly, unsure if I was dreaming or hearing voices in my head.

Don't you remember, Penelope? Don't you remember me?

"I ... I don't know..."

I remember it all. Like that time we shared a shower? That was one of my favorites...

"A—a shower?" I felt a burning start in my stomach, something stirring my thoughts. The memory was blurry, disconnected, lost in something I'd tried to forget.

You were so sweet, Penelope. I loved you so much.

"Loved ... me? Who are you? What do you want with me?" I couldn't help feeling I knew the voice, or what passed for a voice in the words which came to me.

It seemed a sad smile might have formed the response. Don't you remember your own sister?

My pulse raced as memories flooded into my brain and I squeezed my eyes quickly shut as the long-lost images rushed in with the force of a freight train.

"Hurry up!" Jackie took the shampoo from me as I tried to quickly rinse the suds out of my eyes. "Mom and Dad will kill us if we make them late."

"I know, stop hogging the water!" I pushed my sister gently, trying to get more of the flow.

Her breasts brushed against my arm and instead of being angry, she purred. "Easy, Penelope ... you know I like that..."

I narrowed my eyes just out of the flow of water, "oh, I know ... and I know you like this!" I thrust my hand between her legs. She tried to clamp her thighs tight but I was too quick.

Jackie pretended to struggle as she slid her genitals along my arm. "You're going to make us late..." she said without conviction between light moans. My sister started to hump my wrist, her hard clit rubbing along my skin. The water washed over her body as she leaned against the back of the shower, closing her eyes. I moved my fingers forward and slid one into Jackie's vagina. She purred and I crouched low, using my other hand to caress her clit.

She bucked quickly, using one hand to cover her mouth. Our parents were in the next room, getting dressed for church. I tried to shush her to be quiet, but I couldn't stop touching her body. Her legs started to shake and she jerked forward several times, her muffled moans too loud but we were too far gone to slow down.

Jackie came on my hand, rolling her hips around where my fingers probed her tender flesh. I pulled back only when she grabbed my arm and physically made me stop. I rose and my sister wrapped her arms around my shoulders, hugging me. "I love you, Penelope."

"I love you, too."

"I have to give you one before we leave."

Her fingers slid between my legs and I closed my eyes.

"Hurry up you two!" My dad's voice boomed from the doorway. Jackie's fingers were snatched back. I could tell our father had opened the bathroom door and was leaning in. I was tremendously thankful that we had a dark curtain liner covering our bodies. "Let's go. We're going to be late!"

"I'll give you one later," my sister whispered to me with a smile when our Dad closed the door again. "I promise."

"NO!" I yelled out loud. "How dare you!?" The voice had slammed into my brain a vivid memory I hadn't held in my mind in many years. I'd long-ago repressed thoughts of my sister, long-ago shut off memories of her and what we'd done. I refused even to think about what had happened to her, refused to let the voice draw me back to the horror and sadness that had taken her from me.

I'm sorry, Penelope. I want you to remember me again. I want you to know it is alright to remember.

"How dare you!?" I repeated, yelling again. "That is my memory. Mine! What madness is this?" I was certain I was hallucinating, wondering if I had been poisoned or suffered from a brain tumor. I felt very dizzy and lay back on the bed, my arm held over my eyes. "Leave me alone! Just ... leave me alone!"

"Mom?" Kira's voice called from the hall. "Mom, are you okay?" She sounded concerned.

I didn't respond at first, and I heard the door open. I still held closed my eyes.

"Mom? What's wrong? What is it?" I felt my daughter sit on the edge of the bed, her hand on my leg. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," I finally said firmly, trying not to show how scared I was of my own insanity. "Nothing, just ... just a nightmare, that's all."

"A nightmare? Mom ... you were yelling..."

"I know," I said, slowly calming myself, "just ... just woke from a nightmare ... I'm okay ... really."

Kira stroked my thigh sympathetically. It made me flash back to my sister's touch from so long ago. I jerked from Kira's hand and sat up on the bed. "Sorry," I said, "sorry ... I ... It was just a nightmare..."

She looked hurt, and I tried to smile, probably doing little to ease her concerns. Kira replied quietly, "okay ... I just worried ... are you hungry? I made dinner..."

I closed my eyes a moment, unable to clear the memory, and then I felt myself grow calm and my head cleared. The memories faded, and for a few seconds, I tried to remember what had caused me grief. It was lost as I stood slowly. Something lingered on the edge of my mind, something full of both pain and pleasure, but whatever it was receded and left me feeling lost. "Yeah ... yeah, I could eat."

I moved around to where Kira stood from the bed and hugged her tight. "I love you, Kira." I felt the need to hold her and affirm that I needed to be close to my daughter a moment. "No matter what."

"I know, Mom. I love you, too ... you sure you're ok?"

I smiled, the grief and uncertainty fading with whatever the nightmare had brought into my mind. "Yeah, I'm fine. So, what's for dinner?"

Kira went to bed before I did, and I spent a couple of hours staring blankly at the television after she disappeared upstairs into her room. I was still unsettled, couldn't recall what had so upset me that afternoon. I didn't like having holes in my memory, in my emotions, and whatever it had been left a remnant of powerful experiences just out of my grasp. No matter how much I thought about it, nothing was forthcoming.

I finally turned off the television and the lights, and tucked myself into my bed, pulling the covers up to my neck. I settled on my back, staring at the darkness above.

I know it hurts, Penelope. I'm sorry. It hurts me that you have forgotten.

I was confused again, vaguely remembering hearing that voice before. I recalled it from the afternoon, and the night before. That familiar voice somewhere between my ears and my brain. "Jackie?"

It hurts to remember some of it, Penelope, but there was a lot of good, too. I want you to remember that.

"I don't remember," I whispered, certain my grip on sanity was growing loose and that I was talking to myself. "I don't want to remember."

But you need to remember. I'm lost if you don't believe that remembering the good times is worth also remembering the bad...

"The good times..."

After the first night we played together. Don't you remember? At the lake?

"No..."

I'll help you...

It was so hot that day that I had to stay in the lake water to keep from overheating. Jackie was nearby, swimming and singing to herself. Our parents had gone back to the cabin in the heat of the early afternoon, leaving the two of us by ourselves, though other people were around, some swimming, others laying out on the beach, some cooking over grills or drinking wine and beer.

I was confused about the night before. My sister and I had crossed a line in those moments, knowing sexual intimacy which no siblings were supposed to share. I knew, in some ways, that it was just innocent play, but it had been the first time I'd let anyone do that with me, and I was ashamed to have enjoyed those moments with my sister. We hadn't talked about it that day, but I couldn't help feeling the mix of guilt and arousal for what we'd done.

I caught Jackie looking at me fiercely as I rose up from the water a moment to push the hair from my face and neck. Her eyes drew down to where my breasts had risen and were well-covered by my swimsuit. She looked away, back towards a group of three boys who I'd seen laughing a few minutes earlier. I caught one of them glancing my way, staring at me a moment before turning back to his friends.

"They think you're hot, you know," Jackie said to me, moving closer. "I can tell."

"They're probably just looking at you. You're the hot one, not me."

"Bull," my sister said, "you're totally hot, Penelope. And those guys noticed."

I looked away from her, "doubt it. I'm just plain."

"Bull," she said again, "you're pretty and you have nice boobs. Seriously, Sis. Don't doubt it. You're hot."

I shrugged. "Whatever. What's your point?"

She looked back at the boys, then said, "I could go talk to them for you..."

"What? Why?"

She turned to me, "you know, in case you wanted to fool around or something."

"Jeez, Jackie..." I blushed.

"Just playing. You're old enough, though. I was fooling around with boys at your age. It's fun!"

"Yeah, well ... you're the hot one. Guys like you. I'm just ... not you."

"Come on, Penelope. Let me go ask."

I didn't respond and she took that as her cue to swim over to where the boys were watching her approach. I pretended not to see them talking, Jackie laughing with them as she got closer. I saw her point to me quickly and two of the boys looked my way. I blushed and looked elsewhere, sinking in the water to hide my embarrassment.

Jackie swam back, "okay, here's the deal. I just told them that maybe we should all hang out later. Nothing more than hanging out," she added quickly when she saw me about to protest, "you don't have to fuck them."

"God, Jackie ... I don't know..."

"I'll help you. I promise. And yeah, they think you're hot. Trust me."

"How do you know?"

"I asked."

"You what!?" I demanded.

"I asked if they thought you were hot. They all did."

I had felt very self-conscious about my body since I'd started developing a year or so ago. I hated that my breasts were obvious under my clothing, hated that one was really pointy, the other a little more round. I knew everyone could tell, and it made me doubt myself whenever I couldn't completely hide my form. I knew my hips had spread, my butt pushed out, and no matter how often I washed it, I could always smell my pussy whenever I wore a dress, which I had done only rarely since becoming aware of my own odors.

I grudgingly agreed I'd give it a shot, but I felt dread in my stomach, nervous that I'd have to interact with boys I didn't know while my hot sister stole the show and made me look like the little girl in the group.

We planned to meet them after dinner near a more private area on the side of the lake. Jackie and I ate with our parents and asked permission to go swimming again afterwards. My mom had demanded we be back before dark for dinner and we were not to be talking to boys. Our parents were very strict on that, but my sister was well-practiced at telling them what they wanted to hear and then doing what she wanted anyway, without getting caught. They had never known about her boyfriend despite the fact that Jackie had managed to meet him several times over the months for sex.

I was undeniably jealous of Jackie's charisma, of her comfortable conversations with boys, of the way she looked so sexy no matter what she wore. She smiled and looked into boys' eyes, leaned in when appropriate, and made it known that she liked to talk about sex whenever she could. It made my shyness and introversion that much more stark by comparison. Where Jackie shined into any crowd, I felt like a black swan in a pond full of golden geese.

We met the boys a couple of hours before sunset. I'd put on a t-shirt and a pair of knee-length shorts, my bra and panties underneath were yellow cotton. I did my best to think that I looked attractive, but mostly I was just trying to cover my body with the loose-fitting clothing I knew would do little to reveal my maturing curves.

Jim was sixteen, tall with short blond hair. Martin was a short, dark-haired fifteen-year old with curly locks over his eyes. Brad was also fifteen, long blonde hair tied in a pony tail and sporting a rough beard and mustache, making him look tough and much older. They greeted us with cheers as we walked up.

"This is Penny," my sister said, using my more common name in a rare instance, "my sister. Isn't she hot?"

I was mortified, frozen in place.

"Hell yes," Brad said immediately, "you both are."

The other two nodded and grinned.

Jackie turned to me, "see? Told you."

I was blushing furiously and wished I could slip away before it got worse. My sister put down our beach towel and I quickly sat on it trying to avoid eye contact.

"So, we've got some beers, you two want?" Jim asked.

Before I could shake my head, Jackie replied, "of course, and so does my sister."

I'd never so much as tasted any alcohol, and I didn't know if Jackie had either. I was so afraid of my parents finding out that I didn't even open the can until it was warm in my hands. Jackie had finished half of hers in a couple of gulps. "Drink up, Sis."