Tom's Diary
Chapter 15

Copyright© 2003 by Gina Marie Wylie

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 15 - Tom Ferguson is a high school junior who's coming of age experience is a plethora of girls, women and challenges.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including mt/ft   Ma/ft   mt/Fa   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Fa/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Incest   Mother   Son   Brother   Sister   Daughter   Cousins   Orgy   Interracial   Black Female   White Male   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Petting  

Friday March 29, 2002

I awoke slowly, feeling Jenny's pussy contracting then releasing my erection every few seconds. It was a slow awakening, a delicious feeling. I opened my eyes and saw that it wasn't light yet, but it was getting close... like me. I reached up and caressed Jenny's breasts, and she sighed her first, "Aaaahhh!"

Jenny tugged lightly, telling me she wanted to roll on her back; I did so, wishing she was reversed, but eager anyway. I started stroking slowly and deeply into her; each time I'd reach the bottom of her pussy with a push, she'd move her hips against mine, pulling on my bottom to get me in deeper. We'd hold that for a second, and then repeat.

Jenny reached up, starting kissing me, using her tongue to spear into my mouth, far more passionate than our loving movements. When she came, I was unprepared; she starting shaking and trembling, then frantically bucking against me, twisting and writhing in pleasure. It didn't take much of that before I came as well.

We lay together for a couple of minutes, and then the alarm clock went off. "Got that timed pretty well," Jenny joked.

I reached over, turned the alarm off. Outside came the slam of a car door; I pulled out of Jenny, hotfooted it to the window in time to see Melinda's car drive away. I grinned at the memory of last night; I wondered if Mom had had nearly as pleasant a night as I had?

I turned to Jenny. "Time to get up, Jenny."

She grimaced and threw off the sheet; we both went down the hall to the bathroom and showered. It was, I thought, something I could definitely get used to.

Mom and JR made breakfast, then I drove JR and Jenny to school; I felt odd not having to pick up Shannon and Elizabeth. It had only been a few days, but already I was comfortable with it, and missed seeing them.

I ran into Janey in the hall before school and told her that the trip to LA was off.

Her eyes lit up. "Oh cool! I was looking forward to you coming. And coming and coming."

"Can I bring a friend?" I asked, wanting to be certain. "Jennifer?"

"Eighth grade?" Janey asked, and I confirmed. "Yeah, she's gotta be cool, though.

"She's, like, down on guys, right? Her brother was screwing with her, wasn't he?"

"Janey, one thing above all else: I don't talk about other people's business. You've heard rumors about Jennifer; some are right, some are wrong."

"Well, if the ones I hear most often are true, she sounds like my kind of girl."

I just looked at Janey and didn't say anything at all.

"See you two then, Saturday," Janey said, losing the battle of wills.

After school, Janey sought me out again with more information. "Saturday, four in the afternoon we open the doors." I nodded. "We close them at five. No latecomers. If you want to leave -- that's cool, but you can't come back."

"Rules are good," I said, nodding.

I drove over and picked up JR, Jenny and Penny; dropped Penny off and the rest of us drove to Shannon's.

Mary and Dad were there, talking. Elizabeth was sleeping, we were told. If I were a betting person, I'd have said that Dad and Mary had gotten some sack time in, but they hadn't slept much. Dad declared a 'study free' day; since none of us had any homework due over spring break.

Shannon asked if she could talk to me in her room. I felt bad about the day I'd gone off with Elizabeth. I was uncomfortable with the memory, so I agreed, even though I thought it might not be a good idea. Shannon's first words didn't help that feeling.

"I keep thinking about us," she said. "I know I must seem like a squirrelly bitch who can't make up her mind."

"You sound like someone who's not sure what she wants," I agreed.

"I spent last night alternating between masturbating and thinking. Frankly, getting myself off was the most productive part of the night. I don't hate you Tom, I keep wanting to, because you don't want to be with just me.

"I think about what you told me about how it's okay to be with others, and I start to nod agreement; then I think about you and..." She looked at me. "I don't know, Tom. I have a feeling, deep, deep down inside myself that if I walk away from this, I'll miss the most important thing in my life. You know what today is going to be for me?"

I shook my head.

"The first Friday afternoon since I was six years old where I didn't go to Mrs. Hesse's house and learn more about the violin. Three thirty every Friday, like clockwork for ten years. Now there's no money; no prospect of money, at least for the time being, because my father is dead. Dead and gone. I keep wondering what in the world I could have done to not make this happen, and I can't think of a thing."

I thought for a few seconds. "Shannon, I want you to promise me something. I'm going to tell you something, and I want you to promise me you'll never, ever tell your mother. Not first. I will tell her or maybe Dad will. Not very likely my mom; but one of the three of us tells her first. It'll happen soon, but I don't know exactly when."

Shannon was looking at me, obviously curious. "I suppose."

I shook my head. "Supposing won't do. Cross your heart, hope to die."

"You're serious."

"Yes."

She shrugged. "Okay, I promise. Cross my heart and all of that."

"Most likely we'll tell Mary when it comes time for her to sell your house." Shannon nodded, as I spoke. "Because it's going to be me that buys it."

"You?" She obviously didn't believe me.

"Me. And I'd just as soon you don't tell anyone else."

"How could you buy our house?"

"In a word, actually two: it's 'trust funds.' My father's side of the family isn't poor, but not rich. Dad's father was a civil engineer; he built dams and bridges all over the world. It paid really, really well. My dad is an only child. My mom's father is so rich there aren't words to describe it. Mom and her brother are the only heirs; Mom had a baby when she was thirteen; grandfather has never forgiven her for that. So he gives our Uncle Craig, JR and I gifts twice a year, but not Mom. Lots of money; lots and lots of money." I watched her eyes. "Millions of dollars. Eventually, tens of millions."

Shannon was silent, then looked up at me. "Oh." It was a word she said with considerably understated feeling.

I laughed. "All my life, all that I can remember, my dad would rant about the lottery. A big waste he said; people betting a little on the hope of a big score. Something for nothing, he called it. When he told me about Grandpa's plans, well, he said I would just have to adapt to the fact that reality doesn't fit into nice, neat little boxes. Because JR and I have won the lottery."

"And what does this have to do with Mom or my playing the violin?" Shannon asked.

"Because I make more a day in interest than Mary will make at work in a month," I told her. "JR does the same. My Dad does okay too... Any of us, except Mom. You four could move in with us, or we could just write you a check. We'd never notice it."

Shannon blinked. "Mom would have a cow," she said mildly. "It would be just like before. Totally dependant on someone else."

I nodded. "I think Mary is wrong; there's nothing wrong with relying on someone else if you have something to fall back on. She wasn't ready, wasn't prepared. I think she needs to work for a while, having to deal with everything. I think she lost a lot of self-confidence when your dad left. She needs to get that back. Someone dumping more money on her wouldn't do that." I smiled at her. "As for you, Shannon Leary, you've never once played your violin for me. Not once. You don't lack self-confidence; you won't flip out if someone pays for your violin lesson. Last week, your Dad, real soon now," I tapped my chest, "me." I smirked at her, and wagged my finger at her. "And before next week, you will play for me!"

She looked at me, her jaw literally down around her navel. "Okay." Shannon still sounded like she was unsure.

"Shannon, would someone who owns a mile of beach be giving up much, if he gave away a pinch of sand?" She shook her head. "That's me." I paused, giving her a chance to think. "I really would like to hear you play. I love music, particularly classical music."

"Thank you, Tom." She paused. "You told me that it's just a grain of sand to you, so I won't feel obligated, didn't you?"

"Pretty much," I replied. "Also, because it's true."

"You're not trying to buy me; you just want me to share something you have in abundance. Just, for most people, that's not something they have in abundance. If you're so rich, why go to North High?"

"My mom went to an expensive private school; supposedly quite good. Somehow in the curriculum, they didn't get around to teaching what happens when a boy puts his penis inside a girl's vagina and comes. Mom had no idea how she got pregnant until Uncle Craig explained it to her. Mom decided that expensive or not; she hadn't learned what she needed to know.

"So we go to public school, JR and I. Not, mind you, that that's all we do. Mom has been supervising our studies since before we first set foot in a school. We spend the summers hitting the books, sometimes even harder than during the regular year. She's a real tyrant when it comes to education.

"Dad says that having money isn't a simple thing. It means duty and responsibility as well as privilege. We already have a couple of hundred employees. I mess up, well, if Dad messes up until I get to be 21 and take over running things, they lose their jobs. As you know, not having an income can be pretty shitty."

Shannon nodded. "Wow!"

I agreed. "Double wow! Please, Shannon. To me, it's no big deal. JR doesn't even begin to understand it that much. Numbers on pieces of paper; reality is that we both have allowances and can't spend beyond them."

"And you can afford my music lessons on your allowance?" Shannon asked, eyes wide.

I shook my head. "Probably not, but Dad told me that I was old enough to use my judgment. I'm going to have to tell him what I want, why I want it, and justify it to him. I do believe I can do that."

"I don't know what to say," she said finally.

"Play, that's what I want. I want you to play your violin."

She laughed then, shaking her head. "I keep finding reasons why I should love you, reasons I can't hate you. Now something else." She looked at me. "I don't think I can deal with sharing, I really don't think I can. But if some night I'm lonely and horny..."

"Oh yeah!" I said with feeling. Then spoke to the first thing she'd said. "Shannon, when you told me about you and Roger, you told me how he wanted to control every little thing about you. That's not me. I want to share; you're right about that. I want to share part of your life, and I want you to share part of mine. I don't own you, don't want to. I don't want to be your entire life, like your dad was to your mom. I don't want anyone to be my entire life.

"Maybe it's selfish, maybe it's hormones, I don't know. I don't think so. It's how I feel. Here." I tapped my heart.

Mary knocked on the door; I grinned when Shannon went to open it and talk to her mother. A bigger grin when Shannon turned to me and told me that there was a Scrabble game being organized, did I want to play?

The seven of us played Scrabble; Dad applied some major whupass on us, showing everyone just what it means to be a Scrabble genius.

We were just finishing when Elizabeth woke up, and came out to join us.

"If one more person offers to do one more simple thing for me," Elizabeth said firmly after Jenny offered to fetch her something to drink, "I'm going to bop them. Wednesday was bad. Yesterday was uncomfortable, mostly because of all the tests they ran. Today I feel a little tired, but aside from some bruises..." She looked at me, "I'm fine. Really."

"The doctor said you have to take it easy for a week," Mary told her. "You will take it easy for a week."

Elizabeth nodded, then turned to me. "Tom, would you come in my room? I want to talk to you." I nodded, unsure what she wanted; even more unsure how Shannon would react. Still, I followed Elizabeth into her room. "Close the door," she asked, and I did.

"Did you tell anyone about what I said, before it happened?" she asked.

"I told your mom that I thought that you had the attack when your dad was killed. That's all." I'd kind of hinted to the police how her dad had been treated before he was killed; I was reasonably certain they'd blown me off.

"I'm going to tell Mom about it some day. Not soon. I don't know about Shannon." She stopped, looked at me. "Everyone says you're cool, you don't push a girl."

 
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