Into the Palms - Cover

Into the Palms

by Holly Rennick

Copyright© 2003 by Holly Rennick

Erotica Sex Story: Hey girl! Sunbathing on a nude beach, you drift to sleep. You're awaked by something long and hard slipping into your wet pussy! Oh my, it's little brother! You'll pretend that you're still asleep. Oh no, you can't hold still! Does this story make you horny? Like Wow? Then get a life with people in it, honey. "Into the Palms" has siblings on a nude beach, but it isn't that one, for goodness sakes! Give me a break!

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Incest   Brother   Sister   First   .

For the good part of a year, the family planned their Hawaii vacation. The folks had been to Hawaii for their honeymoon, but the 50th state would be new for the siblings. Their mom had even been there with her family before the place was so developed and bet that some of the places she and her brother had explored, way back then, hadn’t changed a bit.

Dad locked in on airfare, condo and car. Mom commandeered the kids’ luggage, replacing electronics with snorkels. “We’re going there to listen to the waves, right?”

They loved Hawaii from the start. Their vehicle was a tad tight, but the condo was beach-view with a pool.


Monday

As their place had a pool, the four of them played Tidal Wave — what when they were little had been just that — but now with her brother was something between tag and dunking.

Getting felt up is indeed more fun here than at some Rodeway Inn pool, the girl was willing to admit. Why Mom put up with it, she didn’t know, but it was only him, and nobody saw what was going on. It wasn’t all one way, however, as she’d sometimes score back as well. She doubted her mom did it back, though, being a mother.

The first time they snorkeled, they saw a sea turtle, the girl pointing and flapping her elbow in what she hoped meant flipper.

They went to a teriyaki place for dinner, her brother saying that Hawaii had good Japanese because they all come here. By the signs, he was probably right.


Tuesday

The next day, their folks told the kids to take the car. “You two go find a beach,” and after mango pancakes — Mom’s invention — the two embarked in search of adventure.

Kihei Beach was overrun, but southwards, the crowds thinned. Wailea, with its rocks, was more their sort of Hawaii, they decided, splashing in the surf, collecting shells and sprawling on the sand. The girl pushed her brother up a coconut tree to knock down a nut. They didn’t know how to open it, but could hear the slosh.

The brother bought his sister a lei. It made her look like a tourist, she knew, but who’d have thought otherwise? Plus, it was just so sweet.

It was when they spotted the path over the pahoehoe — a word her brother got from his Hawaii book — that they wondered if there was yet a beach beyond. He said there was and helped her up the climb, that being what a brother is for.

What she didn’t anticipate on the other side was the clothing-optional aspect.

“It’s in the book,” her brother pointed out.

Do we go on, she wondered. Had the folks been with them, it would have been no, but they weren’t, and at least some of the people were at least a little bit dressed.

Threading themselves through the sunbathers, no one paid them the slightest attention, but to her way of thinking, looking at naked people made you naked yourself. More disconcerting, even, was that suntan lotioning seemed more often than not to be a mutual endeavor. Guys doing girls’ boobs seemed de rigueur. Doing each other lower down seemed evident to her by how a towel was placed.

The girl chose a path past as few gay guys as possible, as they gave her the creeps. She doubted her brother minded the route, however, as it meant passing more girls.

She doubted their own mother would get that way with Dad and her brother around, but for her, it might be fun having one of them lotion her boobs, even. She’d act totally cool about it.

“Maybe head up there,” suggested her brother, indicating the palms, and the two found an out-of-the-way spot in the trees where she pulled up her top enough to tan her stomach. Come time to flip, she had him lotion her back, and liked how he included under her straps.

Just as she was getting comfortable — no, not “comfortable, she had to admit; it was more exciting — however, “Sorry, didn’t mean to step on you,” apologized a woman’s voice, the speaker almost on top of them. The woman had nipples like jawbreakers. She and the guy with her had beach towels around their waists, at least.

“Great place back here. Off the beaten path,” chuckled the woman.

“It’s OK,” agreed the brother.

“I’m Ruth,” the woman introduced herself.

That her brother replied in kind didn’t please her, as the woman didn’t seem the type she’d not want to get to know.

“Softer sand back behind those coconuts,” suggested the man. “More out of sight, you know, if you don’t want somebody stepping in on you when you’re in the middle of something,” with a just-our-secret grin.

Just go away, thought the girl, waiting for her brother to tell them that,

“Thanks, but not today,” his answer, far too polite, in the opinion of his sister.

“You two related?” asked the woman. “Like us?” to which she didn’t know how to answer. “Thought so,” continued the woman. “The legend, right? Why we keep coming back. To help you newbies keep it going.”

“Which legend?” asked the brother.

“The one about this beach. Before the missionaries, the prince and princess would go into these palms here, you know, to extend the royal line. Rub each other with coconut oil first, and everything.”

The girl could tell her brother was interested.

“A priestess went with them to make sure they did what they were supposed to. The commoners would stand on the beach and beat drums while they did it, and afterwards there’d be a feast.”

He was now all ears.

“When you hear the fronds swishing — hear ‘em? — it’s the two of them doing it. A really big wave, that’s when they’re there. Where the sand makes a little dip, that’s where they did it. Them, or us doing the same thing afterwards.”

“Thanks,” the girl interrupted. “We gotta’ be going.”

“Sometimes,” the woman not stopping, “the prince and princess of one clan would be beside the prince and princess of another clan and they’d trade. How they made alliances.”

“Like I said,” she tried again, “we have to be going.”

The woman looked at them both. “That’s why we come here, except we’re not Hawaiian. Alliances.”

“We’re out of here,” she decided, pictured being led into the jungle, the trees swishing, the waves pounding, the priestess watching.

“Something to think about,” the woman wrapped it up. “You two should at least take off your clothes, though, in honor of the legend,”

“We’re fine,” her brother informed the woman.

“Need protection?” asked the man.

“Thanks, but we got SPF-40.”

The man looked surprised, then grinned.

When the intruders had departed, “Thanks for getting rid of them,” her brother told her. “It was nice of them to offer us sunscreen, though.”

“I don’t think it was sunscreen,” her opinion.

On their way out, the two came upon a couple behind a tree trunk, the girl pulling a towel over the boy’s lap and smiling at them.

They’re the kids they’d passed coming in, she’d realized, and when she’d looked back, the boy was above his sister, towel not in the way. Did they just tell their folks they were going exploring, she wondered. See you later. Take your time, kiddos. Surely they hadn’t told their folks they were off to have sex, though.

Mom was without her bra when they returned. Dad was napping.

“Find any good shells,” wondered the daughter, and Mom admitted that they’d ended up staying inside. “Hearing the waves is enough for us old folks.”

Can’t fool me, Mom, she thought, pleased at the idea of their folks listening to the waves, so to speak, this being where they’d honeymooned. For confirmation, she looked into their room and the bed wasn’t even remade. Hawaii.

The two watched a video about a fat rotund cop and a skinny Afro-American one, but after a while, she gave up and went to shower. Returning braless, she wondered if her brother even noticed.

“Don’t block the TV,” his comment, but as she could tell he wasn’t watching it, he must have.


Wednesday

The next day, they found a beach suitable for families — according to her brother’s book, anyway — but she was displeased at girls her age in suits that might as well have been bright suntan lotion. Not that nipples bothered her, her having a pair, herself, but her brother spent too much time looking. Next year she’d get one like those girls, whether her mother liked it or not.

It was her brother who started the splashing contest, feeling her up whenever he could get away with it. She got him back, of course, once their folks took off to look for a waterfall the book said was up the hill. When they returned, her mom said they couldn’t find it, but did find a shady place to rest, why they’d been gone so long.

When her brother and mom took off to look for a volcanic outcrop mentioned in the book, they told the other two to guard the fort. But as it was a sand one and the tide would get it anyway, they ended back in the surf, her in front. She liked his arms around her as a wave approached. Ending up on his lap as the surf receded, she found it interesting what she could tell beneath her, him thinking she was thinking about the wave.

When the others returned, her mom’s swimsuit revealed her state. That her brother kept his eyes resolutely elsewhere probably meant that they had also played in the surf, but their mom shouldn’t have let him get away with it.

She thought of taking off her top, this not being a clothing-optional beach, maybe, but nobody was going to arrest her. Mom would get in a tizzy, but that would be her problem. Maybe tomorrow.

Driving by the parking for the beach where she and her brother had the day before climbed over the rocks, Dad wondered what else was there. “Must be something, all the vehicles.”

She was trying to think of a reason not to, but before she could, it was Mom who said perhaps they should just head back.


Thursday

Maybe it was against the law to go topless on this beach, so she’d not risk it, but she let her top gap open now and then, her brother probably thinking he was so sly in looking, her dad actually trying not to, but succumbing.

The four went to a luau with fire dancers, which her brother said was Polynesian, not actually Hawaiian. The performers did a good job at looking engaged, though they probably did it afternoon and evening, six days a week.

They were presented leis of real flowers, even the guys. She kicked her brother under the table for watching the hula dancers too intently, but as they’d swimsuits under their grass skirts, he wasn’t seeing anything.

When the dancers made everyone join in, her brother and dad under duress, she thought made it more fun. When the music transitioned to Aloha Oe — the fire dancers assuming light post duty — she was by her dad and grabbed onto him and pulled his hand back to her shoulder. Hula in slow motion was how she’d think of it.

His pulling his waist away confirmed her suspicion, something she’d realized in the pool. As the ukuleles strummed on, she worked her leg forward.

Maybe her brother had a boner, too, as in the torchlight she could see him with Mom. This place is so romantic.

Probably the condo mattresses get a lot of action after these hula dances, she decided. This is so great, getting their folks to loosen up.

Driving back, she sat in front with Dad, Mom in the back, head on her brother’s shoulder. When they pulled over to view the surf’s luminance — her brother’s book having mentioned it — Mom got on his lap to better see from the back seat.

As they watched the breakers, the girl scooted over the way a girl can with her dad, it seeming to take him off-guard, but then he put his arm around her the way a dad can with his girl, and she snuggled closer until his reach fell onto her lei. The watched the whitecaps, his tips of his finger now beneath the flowers.

Does he realize, she wondered. Surely not. Of course he’d touched her breasts in the pool, but that was how the game was. Same for her touching his penis. Him so lightly going over them now feels so different.

She couldn’t look behind her withou giving away that she was looking, but could tell that her brother was likewise under Mom’s lei, maybe with more of his hand, even, Mom also yet in an Hawaiian frame of reference.

She, too, might have moved onto her father’s lap, except for the steering wheel.

Mom said that it being such a long day, they should get a jump on goodnight kisses en route, what they did in the back seat, but Dad was driving.


Friday

At breakfast, Dad seemed a little awkward. Not Mom and her brother, though, their good-morning kiss looking to be very Hawaiian. Not that she actually knew about how they do it here, but figured it’s perhaps half hula and half Until-We-Meet-Again. Dad wasn’t looking in their direction, but. Mom could tell she was watching.

As she didn’t want Dad wondering about last night — he’d absolutely found her nipple, but this was Hawaii and they’d been to a hula thing and it was just from the outside — she made a point of giving him an extra sweet good-morning kiss, herself. Nothing additional, however, this not like a luau, but she bet maybe she could have gotten away with it.

She’d given some thought to the event. If while looking at the sea, he’d crept his free hand up her front, would she have let him? Possibly. If he’d had rested it on her leg — the ones in the back would never know — would she have let him? It would depend on how high up. Just thoughts.

Mom said that today she and Dad might want to take it easy again, hang around and read.

Read, Mom? she thought, you in your mumu and little else.

“Make your beds, you two,” Mom had said, “We’re not on that much of a vacation.”

As Mom waved them out, her daughter picked her an orchid.

When the kids pulled the car into last night’s overlook, she had him unhook her bra. To get more comfortable, she told him, wiggling it out from under her shirt.

When they darted into the Sea Shoppe to stock up on snacks, the clerk tagged “Susan,” not much older than themselves greeted them with an “Aloha. Where are you from?”

“Des Moines where there’s no ocean,” the girl told her, “except corn ones,” an afterthought.

The clerk said she’d trade them a bushel of sweet potatoes for a bushel of corn and they all laughed.

“OK place to start,” she advised her brother who was looking at a laminated chart about tide pools. “Get curious and you’ll never stop learning things. I’m reading about Hawksbills,” pulling a book from under the counter which by its cover had to do with turtles.

Not to his sister’s surprise, her brother seemed to know something about them, and asked if he could take a look. Sure. Him occupied, the clerk turned her way and mouthed. “Cute guy.”

Being here with her brother wasn’t the image she wanted to project, but being here with a cute guy she liked.

The clerk asked if they were heading south where you have to climb over the rocks to get to the palm trees.

“Yeah,” she admitted while her sibling perused the food options.

The clerk told her to stay safe.

“We’ll just get our feet wet.”

The clerk raised her eyebrows and turned to the watch display, made a point of pointing to one, and whispered, “I’ll block the camera and you get yourself a pack. 3-C, right behind you.”

“We’re...,” seeing that shelf 3-C is condoms.

“Sea Shoppe customer appreciation, I call it,” the clerk told her. “The owners can absorb it,”

Not caring to admit why there was no need of what was being offered, the girl pocketed a box of Tuxedos, the ones nearest.

The clerk grinned, loudly returning to her mercantile spiel. “Our least expensive multi-function, this one, ma’am. I’m Susan, by the way,” as if it weren’t on her vest.

When her brother returned with a Taiwanese magnifying glass, “Piece of junk,” ruled the clerk, regarding his selection. “Better borrow mine,” reaching below the counter. “Drop it off on your way back.”

Her brother inspected the piece. “Wow! Thanks,” and then to his sister, “Maybe Dad will get me one for Christmas.”

The clerk smiled. “Family vacation, right?”

She was confused. This clerk knew they were siblings and gave her a box of rubbers?

“What you also want is our Saturday Sand Pail Set,” the clerk went on. “Costs three times more when they call it a two-liter specimen container and excavator. Chuck the rake, though. Piece of crap and it damages the mollusks. Never found a golden cowrie, myself, but we have them.”

And then back to her, “Pack out everything you haul in. Tide washes out what looks like a little dead fish and a big fish swallows it,” flicking her eyes to 3-C.

Once over the rocks, the girl this time didn’t want to feel stupid and pulled off her top, bra and all. Nobody knows her.

“Better use lotion,” her brother advised.

Where the palms met the beach, to their “Morning,” a girl about their age looked up from her book and smiled. “Welcome to the half-dressed corner.”

“First time since I was maybe six,” admitted the sister.

The girl laughed, “I could sort of tell. I’m Hannah, anyway, from Seattle.” as if to nail down which Hannah. “Been a while for me, too. You’ll burn if you don’t watch out.”

“Hi,” mumbled the brother, studying the sand.

A girl shouldn’t be alone in a place like this; that much she knew. “We got extra lunch.”

“Really?” which she knew to be more about having somebody at least half-dressed to talk to.

“We’ll be back,” she promised. “We’ll leave the stuff here.”

“Take your time. Got my book.”

Does she think we came for the legend thing, the sister wondered. We just want to explore around some more. For her part, anyway. Her brother wants to see naked girls.

Where they’d yesterday come upon kids their age, a used rubber lay discarded beside the tree trunk. Maybe a Tuxedo, she wondered, but couldn’t tell. As they shouldn’t have left it, she poked it down a crab hole with a stick, the tide not getting this far.

 
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