Lady Guinevere
Chapter 1

Copyright© 2004 by Dark Vision

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Follow along as Jenny and her brother learn about life, love and fishing.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   BiSexual   Heterosexual   Fiction   Incest   Brother   Sister   Cousins   Swinging   Group Sex   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex   Masturbation   Petting   Exhibitionism   Voyeurism  

I still have vivid memories of my first trip to camp with the Scouts. A cabin full of girls, all within a couple of years in age, I was about nine at the time, dressing and undressing in front of each other. The first nights of camp, most of the girls including me, were a little shy. We would try to change our clothes without being seen by the others, and some even went into the bathroom. By the third night, my modesty gave way to speed and convenience. Instead of huddling in the corner next to my bunk, I just changed.

I noticed that some of the other girls had also loosened up a little and soon I was treated to the sight of naked bodies. I remember checking out each and every girl that would give me the chance. Almost all of the girls looked just about like I did when naked. Some were bigger than me, some smaller, but we all lacked boobs and sported hairless mons.

My first view of adult breasts, other than my mom's and they really don't count, was one of the counselors. She was a senior scout, about sixteen or seventeen I think, and was much more developed than the rest of us. I will never forget seeing her pull her tee shirt over her head and seeing her black bra. Mom wears bras, but at the time I could only recall seeing her in white ones. This one was black and much different than any that my mom had, or at least that I had seen on her.

Anyway, I couldn't keep my eyes from staring at her. I would try to look away, but as if they had a mind of their own, my eyes would dart back at the girl. When she reached behind her back, unfastened the bra, and let it slide down her arms, I gasped! I was sure she could hear me so I quickly turned away, but my eyes were instantly drawn back. She bent over at the waist to pick up her nightgown from her bag, and I could clearly see her boobs hanging from her chest, okay, maybe they weren't hanging, but they looked big to me.

In retrospect, they weren't all that big, but at my age, the sight of a girl's boobs was exciting and I thought they were huge. I remember thinking that I hoped that mine would be that big someday. With her nightgown sitting on her bed next to her, she undid her jeans and pulled them down. You have no idea how surprised I was to see that her panties were black like her bra.

I wish I could remember her name, but I can't. She stood a couple of bunks over from mine dressed only in a pair of black panties, and her socks. From my vantage point I couldn't see her front, but I could tell that the panties were nothing like mine, nor any I had ever seen except in magazines or the Sears catalog. They had thin bands of elastic that connected the front to the back; later I learned they were bikinis.

My first experience quickly came to an end when she put her nightgown over her head and let it fall, the hem stopping at her knees. She adjusted the cotton gown and then climbed into bed.

I turned my back to her, removed my shirt and jeans, put my pajamas on over my white cotton panties and tee shirt, and then I too climbed into bed. I had trouble falling asleep that night as I replayed the sight over and over in my mind. I remember I couldn't help but wonder if she had any hair down there, you know.

That night, while I lay in my bunk, I touched myself for the first time. I guess I didn't really know what I was doing, or what to expect, but the feeling was, well, it was wonderful. My fingers rubbed lightly on my mons, through my cotton panties and my nightshirt, as if someone else was controlling them. I don't think I had an orgasm, or anything like it, but it did feel good.

The rest of camp was uneventful compared to that night. Oh I saw the girls my own age a lot of times, but never the older girl. I tried to catch her again, but I was never successful.

Camp ended and I went home. Back to the everyday, normal, life of a girl my age. Dad went to work each morning and Mom worked around the house. My brother and I fought, like any other siblings, and drove Mom nuts.

For the next two years things went along pretty smoothly. Don't get me wrong; my interest in peeking at other people was still strong, maybe even a little stronger. Up until I was twelve I was mainly interested in other girls. Boys were a scourge and of no interest to me. I spent a lot of time trying to catch Mom in various states of undress, walking into her bedroom without knocking, or complaining that I just had to use her bathroom, because my brother was in ours, when she was in the shower.

On one such occasion, I went into the bathroom and while I was sitting on the pot, noticed a small white string dangling between my mother's legs. When I asked her about it, she wrapped a towel around her, tucked the corner between her ample breasts and proceeded to explain some of the facts of life. I was in a state of shock and disbelief when she was finished, after all, all I wanted was to know about the string.

That summer, I was blessed with my first period. It came on a warm sunny Florida day, while I was swimming at my girlfriend's house. She and I were splashing around in the warm pool when she drew attention to the pink water that was around my bottom. I had been feeling poorly that day, stomach-cramps and all, but I had no idea why... now I knew!

I climbed out of the pool, wrapped a towel around my waist, and ran home crying. When I got into the house and found Mom, she hugged me and said something about being a woman now. After she calmed me down and convinced me everything was normal. She led me into the bathroom, told me to shower, and said she would be right back.

When I got out of the shower, Mom was waiting for me. In one hand she held a pair of clean white cotton panties, in the other, something I had never seen before. Mom helped me dry off and showed me how to stick the thick pad in the gusset of my panties and adjust it. She told me about checking the pad, changing the pad, and the odor that I may experience.

For the next four days, I seldom left my bedroom and never left the house. The first two days of my first period, I checked the pad every hour or so, and changed it every other time. Mom asked me how I could have used an entire box of the pads in only two days and when I told her, she couldn't control her laughter. I asked her about tampons, the things with the strings, but she told me that I couldn't use them until I was older.

Needless to say, I made it through my "time of the month" unharmed and finally had enough nerve to return to Cindy's house. When I told her about what happened, she laughed and told me she had gotten hers a few months ago. We went swimming again that afternoon, but now I was a woman. I really didn't feel much different than I did before, but somehow things would never be the same.

My twelfth year was full of surprises. Not only did I have my first period, but my body began to transform from the chubby little girl I was, into something I wasn't sure I was ready for. My waist began to become a bit more slender and my hips were no longer parallel with my sides. The baby fat, as Mom called it, began to melt away and my body started to take shape, the shape of a girl. Because of my height, I though I looked gangly.

The thing that made me the most self-conscious was my breasts. It was like one day I was flat as a board and the next day I woke up with these growths on my chest. I can remember standing in my bedroom, the door tightly locked, and staring at my reflection in the mirror. I bounced on the balls of my feet and watched how my boobs giggled, or at least I thought they did.

The other startling discovery I made that year came when I touched my boobs. I was standing in front of the mirror, something that was becoming a habit, and covered them with my hands. I gently squeezed them, feeling their spongy texture, and then it happened. I rubbed the tiny nipples that topped my cone-shaped boobs and it felt like someone gave me a shock. Only the sparks weren't only in my breasts, there was a strange tingle was between my legs too! I immediately pulled my hands away and got dressed, fearing that there was something dreadfully wrong with me. From that point on, at least for a little while, I avoided any and all contact with the small pink bumps. My crotch was another story, I was still rubbing myself down there, and trying to relive the sensation I felt at camp.

Up until this point, things were okay for me. Then it happened! Now I don't know if all pre-teen girls are subjected to the embarrassment and humiliation I was that night, but what happened to me was burnt into my brain for a long time to come. We were at the dinner table eating just like we did every night. Mom had prepared meatloaf, potatoes, and corn. School was only a few weeks away and Mom was making a big deal of the fact that my brother and I would be starting middle school that year. Because of when our birthdays fell, my brother and I were is the same grade, despite our difference in age. My dad and brother listened to my mother talking about the classes. Neither of them stopped eating as Mom went on and on, but then it happened.

My brother Eddie is eleven months older than I am. He, like all brothers, was a pain and constantly teased me about one thing or another. My parents had Eddie when Mom was seventeen and Dad was nineteen. I loved the month of October, because for thirty days I was the same age as my brother.

"Harry," Mom said to my father. "I think Jennifer is going to need a bra this year."

I wanted to crawl under the table! How could she say such a thing with my dad and brother sitting at the table? Why couldn't she just have gone out, bought me one and given it to me in private?

My eyes filled with tears and I covered my beet-red face with my hands. I was so shocked that I couldn't have talked even if I had wanted to, but there was nothing to say. My mother had just embarrassed me beyond compare, or so I thought at the time.

My brother Eddie choked on his food and almost spit what was in his mouth across the table.

"What does Jen need a bra for?" Eddie said laughing. "She ain't got no tits."

My head snapped up and I was about to scream at my brother when my mother had the audacity to correct his English.

"She doesn't have any tits," she said.

When my death stare shifted from my brother to Mom, she realized what she had said and tried to make things better.

"Oh honey," Mom said, her face flush, "I didn't mean you don't have any breasts, I was only trying to correct your brother's English. Your breasts are just fine."

My dad was doing everything he could to keep from laughing. He covered his mouth with his napkin, I'm sure to hide his smile, and looked away.

Crying, I pushed my chair away from the table, jumped up, and yelled, "Stop talking about my tits! Just leave me alone!"

I ran from the kitchen, went to my room, and locked my door. I threw myself onto my bed and cried out loud. When I heard a knock at my door, I yelled at who ever it was to go away. Mom tried to get me to open my door, but I didn't. For the rest of the night I remained in my bedroom, feeling sorry for myself.

Bright and early the next morning Mom was back at my door, knocking and calling my name.

"Please open the door, Jenny," she said, in that voice only a mother can have.

Knowing I couldn't avoid her forever, I got up from my bed, unlocked the door, and let her in. I was still dressed in the shorts and the sleeveless shirt I was wearing the night before, having cried myself to sleep. When I sat on the edge of my bed, Mom sat next to me, put her arm around my shoulders and pulled me close.

"Are you okay now, Jenny?" She asked.

Tears began to fill my eyes again and I nodded. "How could you do that to me? Why did you have to talk about my underwear in front of Dad and Eddie? Do you have any idea how embarrassing that was for me?"

"I know, sweetie, I'm so sorry. I guess I wasn't thinking about what I was saying."

Mom stroked my long, dark-blonde hair, dragging her fingers through it. The ponytail I normally kept my hair in was gone, the scrunchy lost somewhere in my bed.

"You know," she said, "getting boobs is just part of growing up. All girls get them at some point; you're just developing a little faster than other girls your age. It seemed to have happened so fast for you I didn't really realize it. If I had, I would have done something sooner."

We sat on my bed talking for over an hour. She told me about when she got her first bra and how embarrassed she was when my grandmother took her to the store. I was getting over my melancholy mood when she told me a story that turned my tears to those of laughter rather than sadness.

She told me about having to buy a jock strap and cup for my older brother last year so he could play soccer. Not only did she tell me about the trip to the sporting goods store, she told me what the thing was for. Then she gave me another one of those talks, you know, kind of the birds and bees type of talk. She tried to explain the male anatomy and even talked about its function. To tell the truth, it was much more information than I really wanted, at the time anyway.

After our talk, Mom told me to get cleaned up, put on some nice clothes and we would go shopping. I showered, dressed in a skirt and blouse and went out to the kitchen. After eating a bowl of cereal and drinking a glass of juice, we were off to the mall.

Mom took me to one of the nicer stores at the mall, not the discount stores we usually shopped at. My parents weren't cheap by any stretch; Dad had a great job as a yacht designer and made a real good living. My parents were just thrifty. They couldn't see spending a lot of money on clothing that my brother and I were just going to outgrow.

After the day of shopping at the stores we went in, I knew that I would never be satisfied with Kmart again. Mom led me to the lingerie department and we searched the racks for my new underwear. When I found a training bra and showed it to her, she shook her head no.

"What's wrong with this?" I asked holding the garment. "Cindy wears one just like it."

Mom took it from me, looked it over and returned it to the rack. The training bra was nothing more than a two and a half inch strip of bright white material with shoulder straps. She pulled me by the arm over to a rack of real bras and began to sort through them.

I also began to look at the bras, noting that they had formed cups, adjustable shoulder straps and hooks. Some of the hooks were in the back, others between the cups. I continued to look over the selection until Mom, her hand holding several bras, told me to follow her.

We went into a dressing area and Mom pointed to a booth. Handing me one of the bras, she told me to go put it on and come back out so she could see it. I glanced around the dressing room, noticing that it was nothing like the ones at the discount stores. It had a row of booths, each with a curtain and chairs in the common area. At one end, a series of mirrors was provided so you could see yourself from every angle.

I went into the booth, removed my blouse and put on the bra my mother had given me. It took several minutes to fasten the thing behind my back, but I finally was able to find the small eye with the hook. I put my shirt back on and went out to see Mom.

"What do you think, Mom," I said as I pushed my shoulders back to enhance the appearance.

Mom chuckled, stepped in front of me and began to unbutton my white blouse. When I asked what she was doing, she said, "I want to see how it fits, Jenny. I can't see a thing through your top."

I began to protest but stopped when I saw a woman step out of one of the booths in a lacy pink bra and a pair of shorts. My eyes followed her to the mirrors and watched her as she pulled and twisted the garment over her breasts. When she walked back to the booth, I looked down to see Mom had my blouse open and was pushing it off my shoulders.

She completely removed my top, tossed it into a chair, and began to examine the bra and its fit. She pulled at the small buckles on the shoulder straps, shortening them. Much to my surprise, she hooked her fingers into the cups and ran them over the tops of my boobs.

"This seems a little snug," she said. "Go and try on this one for me."

She gave me another bra and waited for me to go change. I took off the one I was wearing and slipped my arms into the second one. After struggling with the back strap for several moments, I held it in place and went out to get some assistance from my mother.

"I can't hook this one," I complained.

Mom chuckled again, she seemed to be laughing at me a lot lately, and grabbed the bra from under my arms. She pulled the garment off of me, leaving me nude from the waist up. Mom showed me how to put the bra on with the cups at my back, hook it in front, and then twist it around and put my arms through the shoulder straps. After explaining the process, she unhooked it, pulled it off me again, and told me to try.

As I was fiddling with the thing, a girl about my age walked into the dressing area with a woman I assumed was her mom. Instinctively, I folded my arms over my naked chest to hide my breasts from her view. The girl smiled at me, took a bra her mom was holding and went into a booth.

"Jenny, Jenny, Jenny," I heard my mom say with that annoying mom laugh. "What are you going to do in physical education? Hide in your locker?"

Right at that moment it dawned on me! Physical education, I'm going to be in the seventh grade and I had PE. I knew that, unlike gym class in elementary school, you had to shower and change in a locker room in middle school. My mind became overloaded with the thought of other girls seeing me. Camp was one thing; we were all flat and hairless at camp. Now I had boobs and, of all things, a patch of soft, light colored curls.

"Jenny," Mom said, snapping me out of my trance, "are you okay?"

"Yes, Mom, I was just thinking."

Mom grinned. Not a smile, but a knowing grin. I felt my face begin to warm as I watched her grin give way to a subdued chuckle. How could she know what I was thinking?

"You aren't the first twelve year old that had to go to middle school, young lady. Believe it or not, I was twelve once too."

"Yeah but," I began.

"Yeah but nothing," she said. "When I was your age my boobs weren't half as big as yours. Your grandmother had to buy me a training bra so I would stop crying, not that I needed one."

I giggled and said, "Really Mom, what happened?"

"I turned fourteen! All of a sudden I went from flat, to stacked. When I went into the ninth grade, I was a thirty-four B. I got snapped so many times in the ninth grade that I thought that there would be a permanent mark across my back."

"Snapped?"

Mom hooked her finger into the back strap of my bra, pulled back a couple of inches and let it go. The elastic band slapped across my skin, making a loud crack and making me flinch.

"Snapped," she giggled.

She adjusted the second bra, tested the cups with her fingers and said, "I think we have the right size, you're a twenty-eight A. Go and take this off and we'll go and pick out a few more."

When I came out of the booth dressed in my blouse and holding the bra, I saw the other girl with her mom. She was enduring the same punishment, which I had been subjected to. I giggled under my breath as I watched her mom pulling at the bra while she tried in vain the conceal herself.

On the way out to the racks of bras, I mustered as much courage as I could and said to Mom, "Do I have to get all white ones?"

Again with the grin and chuckle, Mom shook her head no. We searched the racks, first for size, then for style and finally color. Mom pulled out a padded version of the style she liked for me, held it up for my inspection and put it back.

"You're not going to need any padding, not for long anyways. Besides, I think a natural look is better, don't you?"

I nodded my head, but I had no idea what she was talking about. Boobs were boobs and the difference in how they looked was only size as far as I was concerned.

After selecting a couple of white, a light blue flowered and a pink bra, Mom shocked me and took a black one from the rack. She added it to the items in her hand and headed to the panties.

My mind shot back to camp and the senior scout with her black bra and panties. I would have never guessed that Mom would pick one out for me. I followed her to the panties and watched as she matched the bras. She was selecting panties that were made of nylon and had lace on them, not the cotton underwear I was so used to. In a bold move, I hunted until I found a pair of black lace panties, cut high on the sides, and handed them to Mom.

Mom held up the garment, turned it back and forth several times and added it to the others, this time without a grin or chuckle. When she was finished in the lingerie department, she took me to pick out a few skirts, shorts, and tops. After paying for the items, we headed for home.

We pulled into the driveway of our split ranch house and went through the garage into the kitchen. We moved into the house several years ago, after Dad got a new job at one of the bigger yacht builders. The master bedroom, my parents' room, was off the kitchen and dining area. I had to cross the large living room to get to the alcove that had doors to my room, my brother's room, and a bathroom.

When standing in the small alcove facing the bathroom, my bedroom was to the right and my brother's to the left. If I wasn't careful and left my door open, Eddie could see into my room from his.

I carried my new clothing into my room, dropped the bags on the bed, and called my girlfriend Cindy.

"You just have to come over and see what Mom bought me for school, Cindy. I got new clothes and they are so cool."

While I waited for Cindy, I cut the tags off my new things and matched the bras with the panties. I placed them carefully on my bed and arranging them as if they were on display. Mom came into my room and watched me for several moments before leaving to start lunch.

I sat at the small desk in the corner of my bedroom thinking about the shopping trip, the girl and her mom and my new black undies. I considered changing into one of my new bra and panty sets before Cindy arrived, but decided against it.

I heard the front door slam and knew that my brother was home for lunch. I listened for the television and soon music, from one of the video channels, was blaring out of the living room.

I went out to watch television and wait for Cindy to arrive, sitting on the floor with my back against the couch. Eddie was sitting sideways in Dad's recliner, his legs dangling over the arm.

I picked up a teen magazine and thumbed through the pages, listening to the music. When Mom called to tell us lunch was ready, I closed my magazine and put it back on the floor. Eddie must not have noticed that I had put down the book, because I caught him staring up my skirt.

This wasn't the first time I caught him stealing glances at me, he seemed to be doing it all the time, but this is the first time I didn't yell at him. I felt all funny in my stomach and kind of tingled at the thought of my brother looking at my cotton panties under my short skirt.

Without saying a word, I got up, very un-lady like I might add, and went into the kitchen. I wondered how my brother would react when he looked under my skirt and saw me in my new panties.

After I finished my lunch and put my dishes in the sink, I went back out to the living room. I picked my magazine back up and started to read an article on make-up. I pushed my skirt down between my legs and clamped them closed so there was no way my brother could see up it. While I read, I kept glancing up to see if Eddie was trying to look up my skirt. Each time I peered over the magazine, I could see his eyes darting from the television to me and back.

When I heard the doorbell, I jumped up and went to answer it. I invited Cindy in and led her to my bedroom. Once we were both inside, I closed the door.

Cindy went over to my bed and stared down at my new clothing, paying careful attention to the bras and panties. She picked up the black one, I knew she would, and held it up by the shoulder straps.

"Twenty-eight A," she read from the tag in back. "I didn't know your boobies were that big, Jen."

I shrugged my shoulders and giggled as she rubbed the silky nylon material between her thumb and forefinger. She folded the black bra, placed it on the bed and picked up the matching panties.

"Your mom is going to let you wear these?" She asked.

"She let me buy them," I replied.

"I would love to be able to wear these, but my mom still makes me wear dumb old cotton panties. I do have a bra though." Cindy said as she dropped the panties and lifted her shirt. "It's only a training bra, not like your new ones."

Blushing slightly and seeing an opportunity to compare my friend's boobs to mine, I said, "You can try mine on if you want to."

"Really?" Cindy said, and quickly pulled her tee shirt over her head, followed by her white training bra.

I can remember giggling as I watched her try to hook the bra behind her back and telling her what my mom had taught me at the store. I stared at her tiny breasts, as she fastened the bra hooks and twisted it into place; they were much smaller than mine. Her boobs were not much more than exaggerated nipples, the same as mine were only a few months before.

Standing in front of my mirror, Cindy looked at how the bra covered her chest and poked at the soft cups.

"Too big for me," she said. "My boobies have to grow some more before I can wear something like this."

"You don't have to worry," I told Cindy, mimicking my mother. "They will."

Cindy took off my new black bra and folded it. She placed it back on the bed and continued looking at my new wardrobe, still topless. I had a little trouble with her lack of shyness, but I did enjoy the view.

"Why don't you put one of your bras on so I can see how it looks on you?" Cindy suggested,

I considered her request and then began to unbutton my blouse. I picked up my blue flowered bra, slipped it on and fastened it between the lace-trimmed cups. Turning slowly, I modeled the bra for her, allowing her to have a good look and my larger breasts.

"That looks hot on you, Jenny, I can't wait to get boobs."

Leaving the new bra on, I put my top back on and Cindy also redressed. We left my room, leaving my new things on the bed and went out to the kitchen. After telling my mom we were leaving, Cindy and I headed out into the neighborhood. We walked up to the park that was a little over a block form my house and sat on the swings. We talked about the upcoming school year and, for the first time, boys.

After all, we were going to be in middle school now. In our minds, that meant parties and school dances, and maybe even a boyfriend. We sat on the swings, talked for over two hours, and then decided to go home.

Over the next few weeks, life was pretty mundane. Get up, swim or hang out with Cindy, eat dinner, watch television, go to bed. In fact, the only thing that was really any different is that Eddie found out I was wearing a bra.

Just as Mom had told me, I got snapped. Almost every time the brat walked behind me, he pulled back on my bra strap and snapped it against my back. I, in turn, would spin around and take a swing at him, connecting with his arm half the time. Mom and Dad yelled at us, but it didn't stop either one of us from playing what had turned into a game. Once in a while, I would go without my bra and laugh at my brother when he grabbed and found nothing to snap.

School was going to start in two days. Cindy and I had gone to the park to sit on the swings and talk about our favorite subject, boys. We discussed what so and so would look like this year and if you know who was still going with what's her name. That afternoon, Cindy asked me a question that almost made me fall off my perch.

"Jen," she said, and then hesitated. "Have you ever seen Eddie naked?"

I thought about her question for a few minutes. When was the last time I saw my brother naked?

"No, not since we were real young. Why?"

"Oh, I was just wondering how big his thing was."

"What thing, Cindy? What are you talking about?"

"You know," she said pointing to her crotch, "his thing! I wonder how big it is."

"I don't know, and I don't care, Cindy."

"Okay, I was just wondering."

We ended the day and walked home together. I left Cindy at her house and continued down the block to mine. Inside, Mom was fixing dinner and Eddie was watching television, slumped in the chair as usual. As I walked past him, I glanced at his shorts. Cindy's question had raised my curiosity to a new level and now I did wonder about my brother and his thing.

That night I lay in bed with visions of the male anatomy running through my head. I remember seeing my brother naked when we used to bathe together, but for the life of me, I couldn't remember exactly what his genitals looked like. My mind conjured up all kinds of images, but I couldn't be sure just what the thing, as Cindy called it, looked like. I thought to myself that it was important to find out, after all, I was in middle school now and I didn't want to look stupid amongst my classmates.

Chapter 2 »

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