Chapter 14: Uncoverings

Of course I stared at my suddenly naked sister. Those amazing breasts, grapefruit sized with large, dark, puffy conical areolas and rigid nipples. Coffee brown natural skin, well-toned and smooth, nearly flawless. A mostly shaved pubic area, a small trimmed triangular tuft right on the peak of the hill of Venus, pointing downward like a road sign: "this way, please."

She started to close her legs, but I could almost see her thinking to herself, well, he's going to see eventually, and she spread them again, not crudely, just in the natural way she might, if she were sitting clothed.

Finally, she cleared her throat, and I realized I'd been staring rather openly. I met her eyes but there was nothing but humor and kindness. "Your turn," she goaded.

"Well, it's not going to be as dramatic as you and your robe," I commented, failing to buy time. Realizing I had no choice: my earlier statements, and the subtle competitiveness that had always existed between us as siblings, guaranteed I'd go along with this game. Given that, there seemed no point in procrastinating. But damn, my penis was not cooperating. Throb, throb. Oh, hell.

I stood and pulled off my sweatshirt and t-shirt in one motion, and kicked off my shoes. Then, muttering something like "I can't believe I'm doing this," I decided to not even try a striptease, expecting I'd appear ridiculous. I just hooked my fingers in my waistline and dropped pants and boxers at once, and pulled the socks off when I got them down, thus completely stripping in a single fell swoop.

Here I was, naked in front of my sister, with a massive, unrepentant erection jutting from my groin. Actually, is such a thing as a repentant erection conceivable? I sat back down, but didn't dare try tocover up, sensing I'd appear sillier doing that than just sitting there, and also not willing to appear less comfortable with what was going on than she did.

Now, it was her turn to stare. At least there was that. When she looked up and saw I'd been watching her gaze locked to my groin, she grinned sheepishly and said, "geez, Jase, you weren't kidding about the potential arousal problem." And giggled, adding, "Not to worry, bro. I'll take it as a complement."

We both looked away for a little bit. Then, with an almost girlish glee, she stood swiftly and said, "whee, I'm I nudist." And strode from the room. "This calls for a celebration, don't you think?" she called from the kitchen.

"Um, ok," I said, but remained seated.

Denise reappeared behind the half-wall separating the living room from the dining room, brandishing a bottle of wine. "Want some?" she asked.

"Well, one of us has to get Lissa," I observed.

"Oh, right," she grimaced. Well ... I'll have a glass, and you can go get her. You don't mind?"

I shook my head. She ran back around the counter and fetched a corkscrew from a drawer, and soon had popped the top. A minute later she reappeared in the living room with her wine glass with a nice white in it, and resumed her spot on the couch. I could see she had goose bumps as she sipped her wine and fiddled with the tv remote, but as she reached for her blanket she looked up and remarked, "well, that wouldn't be fair, would it? You want to turn up the thermostat?"

I really wouldn't have minded if she'd covered herself -- I was still in a mild state of shock from the turn of events. From my "Finn" point of view, she'd gone "above and beyond." I was impressed. But from the Jason point of view I was self-conscious and embarrassed, not to say mortified. But also, of course, profoundly aroused.

I stood and went around the corner, tinkered the thermostat for a few seconds till I saw how it worked (these electronic doohickeys can be a bit of a challenge, sometimes), and returned to the living room, still throbbingly erect and, damn ... was that the glistening of sticky moisture at the tip?

Just as I feared.

Before I could return to my chair, Denise patted the couch and said, "you can't see the tv very well from there -- sit over here. There's lots of room."

How could I protest? Without a word, I turned and sat at the other end of the couch from where she was -- about 3 feet separated us, but even as I thought this in my mind, she rearranged herself with a half-turn, bringing one leg up and leaning back into the corner, and her left foot was now mere inches from my thigh, knee half-raised -- if she'd stretched out, she have had her foot on my oddly-structured lap. And as I involuntarily raised my gaze from the proximate foot toward her face, it crossed the middle region, now almost blatantly spread: puffy outer lips spread showing hint of the inner ones, and goodness, was that her clit peeking out at the top?

Of course my gaze froze, there.

"You act like you never saw one before," my sister teased.

"Uh, sorry," I mumbled, and, feeling defensive, I snipped, "you're not exactly leaving much to the imagination."

She laughed, and her raised thigh made a dipping motion, close, open. "I already admitted to you that I have exhibitionist tendencies. Why deny it?"

Finally, I had to ask, "It really doesn't bother you that I'm your brother, though?"

She got a pensive look, as I finally managed to look at her face. "If it bothered me, I wouldn't be doing it, Jase. I wish you wouldn't let it bother you."

I shrugged. "I guess I just have to get used to it. It's, uh, hard..." I realized the evident pun, and decided to let her have her fun, so I stopped there. Denise loved to play with words, and could never resist a good pun.

"Damn, no kidding!" she exclaimed, predictably, with a pointed gaze at my surging crotch. Then, more unexpectedly, she asked, "when's the last time you gave that thing some attention?"

I couldn't believe my sister was asking me that. But I just shrugged, for a moment unable to formulate a coherent answer. Then, surprising even myself, I said, "I, uh, have a habit of intentionally neglectingit."

Denise's mouth made a little "Oh" and she looked from it to my eyes, and back to it. "Intentionally? I don't understand."

I suspected she did understand, given the exchanges she and Finn had had about the subject of edging. But, of course, she didn't want me to know that.

So I explained, "sometimes I like to, well, let the energies build up."

She grinned. "Oh, like teasing yourself?"

I nodded. And she surprised me again. "Sometimes I do that, too."

When I didn't respond, she asked, "so when's the last time you let yourself, uh ... finish?"

"You really want to know such a thing?" I asked, letting my incredulity with the situation show for a second.

She kind of giggled and shrugged, and, probably unconsciously, brought her legs together a bit. "You don't have to tell," she said, "I'm just being nosy."

I tried to smile back at her, but wondered if it came off as that standard horny-male-with-only-one-thing-on-his-mind look, as she got a funny look on her face, and turned away. So I said, "look, Denise, this is all very interesting, but ... you can stop at any time, and I won't hold it against you."

Too late, I realized I'd given her another pun to toy with. Without a lost beat, she lowered her gaze at my lap and almost coquettishly said, "you won't hold it against me?" A sort of plaintive voice. The meaning made clear by where her stare was fixed.

"Geez, Denise. Only if you really want me to," I finally said, because it almost seemed an obligatory part of the pun. I've explained, before, that we'd sometimes exchanged double-entendres and even near-flirted with one another, but because of the circumstances -- mutual nudity, a day of sexually chargedconversation, my pounding tube steak -- this was a whole different level.

She looked back up at my face and grinned, and the joke was past. "Maybe it would make you more comfortable ... if you went into the other room, and uh..." She finally suggested, but even she blanched at openly telling me to go masturbate. Thus, after a short ellipsis, she concluded, " ... Then you could come back and, uh, not be so preoccupied."

I laughed, mostly at her sudden shyness after having pushed it so far. That eased the tension. But I didn't jump up and leave the room, though I was sorely tempted.

We actually both stared at the tv for a while, in mutual silence. Then she said, "I definitely think that, if we're going to have Lissa join us, you might want to, uh, release a little, ahead of time."

"You still think that's a good idea?" I asked, genuinely amazed Denise was still contemplating this.

She smiled and said, carefully, "I think Lissa is the one that started it. She deserves to reap the rewards."

"Rewards?" I laughed.

"She's not as naive as you might think, Jason," she finally said.

"I don't think she's naive -- not at all. I just, uh, worry if it's appropriate."

Denise meditated on this a little bit, and resumed looking at the tv. I looked for a while at my sister's beautiful body, and was clearly daydreaming, eyes glazed over, when the toe six inches to my right reached out and poked my thigh playfully. I looked up again to meet her eyes.

She gave a little speech. "I think society probably would say it's wrong, but I don't believe it's wrong, and I don't think you believe it's wrong either, you're just not comfortable admitting you like the idea. Lissa is mature enough to be able to say no to anything she doesn't like or doesn't want to happen, and if she is, you and I certainly are, too. And I trust you completely to stop anything or everything the moment anyone says 'no.'"