An Unethical Proposal Ch. 03

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Authors note: This is a four chapter story about incest between a brother and sister. It’s a story within a story. This chapter would be hard read on its own. You’ll have a much better understanding of the story and characters if you first read chapter 1 and 2.

I hope you’ll enjoy it. Please stick with it until the end. Comments are appreciated. Thanks!

*****

As I walked into Jan’s office, I saw chapter two of my story on her desk. She had printed it out, same as chapter one. I immediately mused that she enjoyed my story. I imagined her at her desk reading it, and getting so turned on her hand found it’s way to her crotch, and a smile crossed my lips. This time I didn’t take up residency on the obligatory couch. I sat in a chair facing Jan’s desk. As Jan walked past me and around her desk to take her seat, I noticed her skirt was a little shorter than the skirts I had seen her in before. Previously, her skirts came to just above her knees. This black skirt was mid-thigh in length. Her legs looked ravishingly hot. Her thighs were shapely and toned, and they looked strong, but without bulk.

“I read the second chapter of your story. So, now you and Clair are in deeper. Did you feel any remorse at all after that?”

“No, not at all.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t feel any guilt after your orgasm, after Clair gave you oral sex. That’s a vulnerable time for a man. Usually teenagers feel guilty just after orgasm while masturbating. Have you ever experienced that guilt as a teenager after masturbating?”

“Sure, some.”

“But that guilt wasn’t there after your orgasms with your sister?”

“At that time, I was nineteen, and not a virgin. In fact I had stopped feeling guilty about masturbating years before that, even prior to loosing my virginity. As a younger boy, I had read in a Men’s Health that masturbation was healthy for your body and good for your mind. After reading that, I said to myself, ‘why I am I feeling guilty doing something that is healthy?’ I never felt guilty again after that. In fact that’s when I started masturbating at least once a day.”

“So at that point, you no longer had any guilt associated with masturbation. But you’re saying you also had no guilt associated with having sex with your sister, Clair?”

“Well, we hadn’t gone all the way, yet. I mean, if we’re taking this discussion chronologically, then at the point where we’re at, we hadn’t gone all the way yet.”

“It’s still sex with your sister, William. Oral sex is still sex.”

“No. I didn’t feel guilty. OK. Does that make me a monster?”

“I’m not here to judge you, William. I’m here to help you.”

“It sure seems like you’re judging me with all these guilt questions.”

“I just need to understand how you were processing your feelings during the time all this was going on. It’s an emotionally charged thing for most people, to have sex with their sibling. I’m not a mind reader, I can’t get into your head. These questions are designed to give me an idea of how you felt about those events when they were happening, and how you’re currently processing them.”

There was a long pause in the questioning, I just stared at Jan and said nothing.

“And Clair, what was her take on the two of you having oral sex? Did she talk to you about it afterward? Did she express any guilt, or reservations about what you two had just done?”

“No. Not that she let on. She seemed happy to be learning from me.”

“Your story portrays Clair as someone just blossoming in their own sexuality, and you as the instrument of that, the teacher. How did that make you feel?”

“It felt good.”

“Do you think that masked any guilt you might have otherwise felt?”

For the next forty minutes Jan probed my psyche to find any semblance of a normal human being, I suppose. I did my best to assure her, aside from my lack of guilt associated with Clair and myself having sex, I wasn’t psychotic.

“That’s all the time we have for today, William. I’d like you to continue writing your story. Do you think you can write another chapter and get it to me before we meet next week?”

“I’ll do my best,” I said as I got up from the chair in front of Jan’s desk. She was busy writing her notes, of what a basket case I was most likely. As she leaned over her desk, I glanced down the top of her blouse. A hint of cleavage, just a hint, was all it took for my mind to go off into the nether regions of Jan’s flesh.

As I left her office I once again felt the need to call Clair. I picked up my cell and placed a call to her.

“Billy. We’re not suppose to be talking to each other right now.”

“I need you Clair. Please.”

“No, Billy. Don’t you think I’m hurting too? We can’t right now…CLICK.” She was gone, but what was ‘right now’ suppose to mean? Last week it was, ‘…we need to do this Billy. We need to separate.’ This time it was, ‘We can’t right now.’ Was she realizing all this was a charade? And, that it was inevitable we’d be back in casino siteleri bed together sooner or later? My heart skipped a beat, and my cock jolted. It’s been six weeks since Clair’s hands have been on my cock, and I missed her dearly. Nothing could satisfy me like Clair’s hands. Last week I masturbated until I was raw trying to scratch that itch only Clair could reach.

I needed someone else’s hands on my cock. ‘But how was I going to get that tonight?’ I thought. I was still between girlfriends. The only place I could think of where I could get a hand-job on demand, was one of those happy-ending massage parlors. I passed by one on the way home from work every day. I always thought, as I passed by the place, about those poor chumps were in there. If they only knew what a real hand-job was like. A real hand-job from the the goddess of hand-jobs, my sister, Clair.

When I got home I grabbed a bottle of vodka and poured a healthy shot. I downed it, and poured another. I felt depressed. I missed Clair so much I hurt inside. I knew of only one way to change my mood. I needed to write another chapter.

I skimmed over chapter two to get a sense of where I’d left off. Ah…yes, Clair had just performed her first blow-job ever, and it was on me; and I had just finished eating her out…

My Sister’s Hands. Chapter Three –

“Billy, I had no idea that would feel…so…there’s no words to describe…” The look of total bliss on Clair’s face said it all. I beamed with pride. I was glad I satisfied her so thoroughly. It was important to me that her first experience receiving cunnilingus was enjoyable.

“If I had known it felt that good I would have…,” she didn’t finish her thought.

“What? Had me do it to you sooner?”

“I would have had somebody do it to me sooner,” she exclaimed. “When can we do it again?”

“How about later today. I need some time to recharge, and besides, I’m starving. Can you make something for breakfast?”

Clair pouted a little, but got up from bed and went into the bathroom. She returned with a wash cloth and cleaned me up. She reluctantly helped me get back into my gym shorts. She got dressed and then helped me up from her bed. With my crutches I hobbled out into the living room and set my self into the old recliner. Clair helped me pull the lever so the leg rest came up, and I got situated with my plaster of paris arms on the arm rests of the recliner.

Clair made breakfast. She pulled up a chair and fed me scrabbled eggs. All the smugness I felt after teaching Clair the ways of tongue went out the window after that first fork of food entered my mouth not by my own hands. By far, the most humiliating part of having both arms and hands locked in casts was having to be fed like a child, or an old feeble man stuck in a nursing home with neither the strength or the will to feed himself.

Clair looked pensive as she fed me, and she kept glancing out the picture window. It was a beautiful summer day; sunny, bluebird sky, no wind. “Let’s get you out of the house today,” she suddenly announced.

Going outside sounded like a great idea, I hadn’t been out of the house since I’ve had gotten home from the hospital a few days ago. I was more than a little concerned about using the crutches on any uneven terrain though. If I tripped, I wouldn’t have been able catch myself with my arms locked up in these casts. I had a hard enough time hobbling around the house on smooth floors.

“Sure sounds good to me, but I’ll need to take it easy. I’m not sure I can manage if the ground is uneven.”

“Let’s go to Dead Man’s Lake. I want to try skinny dipping,” Clair blurted out wide eyed.

Dead Man’s Lake, as it was called by the locals, was an old quarry pond on abandoned land. It was not an official lake you’d find on a map. It’s not a body of water that you’d find tourists at. It was a locals hangout. It had rock cliffs on one side and a small beach on the other. The beach was a man-made beach. It was hacked out of the wooded bank of the pond back in the 1950’s by a group of bored high school seniors with axes, shovels, and pickup trucks full of sand. They were looking for a place to have a little summer party. Since then, the beach has been expanded and maintained by dedicated locals. It was named Dead Man’s because of the number of deaths by drunks diving off the cliffs. The cops gave up patrolling there long ago. ‘If they want to get drunk and kill themselves out there, then who are we to stop them,’ officer Murphy announced in the local paper during an interview with a reporter about the police spending too much time being called out to the lake for rowdy behavior. Seems a group of good Samaritans were taking it upon themselves to check the goings on at the lake and they called the cops regularly for anything that didn’t pass their muster. Once the cops stopped showing up, the skinny dippers showed up, and the place got a reputation as a nude beach where the cops didn’t hassle you. I hadn’t been to the nude slot oyna side yet, and I believed Clair wouldn’t have shown up there either. After the beach went nude, most school kids would go to the cliff side of the lake to dive and showoff. Hanging out with your high school classmates at the nude beach was something talked about, but rarely done.

“Dead Man’s Lake? I’d love to Clair, but do you think I can manage?”

“I’ll put you in your wheelchair and push you.”

“I don’t think you’d be able to push me on the uneven ground of that make shift parking lot, and in the sand I’m sure the wheels will sink in, and the wheelchair would be stuck.”

Clair pouted.

“I’ll have to try walking with my crutches outside on the lawn first. Maybe I can do it. I’d be nice to extend my range. This house is getting smaller everyday.”

Clair beamed.

“Have you ever been to the nude beach? For that matter, have you ever skinny dipped before?” I asked her, already knowing the answer.

“No. Are you kidding? I would never have…too shy.”

“Why do you want to go now Clair, what’s changed?” Again, I didn’t really need her answer. I had seen the change in Clair over the last few days. Opening her up sexually had given her a new confidence about herself and her body.

“I don’t know…I’m just feeling so free and open about that part of me that I’ve cloistered away. Since you and I have been doing stuff, and my talk with Margaret, I feel free to express myself. I always wanted to go skinny dipping at the nude beach, and today looks like the picture perfect day to do it.”

“Ok, let’s give it a try,” I said. I was game for anything as long as I didn’t have to spend the whole day in the captains chair, that infernal recliner.

Clair put on her bathing suit, it was a simple black one piece, nothing sexy.

“How does this old thing look?” She asked, coming out of her room.

“I thought we were going to the nude beach?”

“We are. You can’t drive over there naked, silly, and besides, if the nude beach doesn’t work out, maybe we’ll go over to Miller’s Beach for a while, I can a least swim there.”

“It looks fine,” I said, referring to her bathing suit.

“I think I need a new one. This thing looks old and it’s not in the least sexy. I’m thinking it’s time for a bikini,” Clair said with a devilish smile.

The thought of Clair in a bikini made my cock stir, I imagined her in the skimpiest of string bikinis.

Clair helped me out of the house and I walked around the yard with my crutches. I was unsteady, and nervous. If it had been just my leg in a cast, I’d be jumping around on those crutches, but with both arms broke, it was imperative I didn’t fall. I eventually got more confident walking around our lawn with the crutches and told Clair I was ready to give Dead Man’s Lake a try.

“Bring a chair Clair, there’s no way I can sit on the ground, or on the sand, on a beach towel. There’s no way I can get down that low and up again without the use of my arms. I’ll need something to prop up my leg too, bring the cooler, and put some drinks in it.”

Clair stuffed me in the back seat of her econo-car. I barely fit with my back against one of the back doors and my broken right leg, in it’s cocoon of a cast, stretched out and angled just so that she could close the other door without crushing my foot.

It was a hot summer day and there were already a lot of cars jammed into the clearing that served as a parking lot. Clair helped me out of her car and I hobbled gingerly along the path to the beach. Clair was in tow with a lawn chair and the cooler.

As I made my way onto the beach I started to see people, naked, some alone, some in pairs, and a few groups of three or four. Most were older, thirties, forties, and a few twenty somethings. The only ones our age that I could see were down the beach, in the far right corner. They were three old classmates I knew from high school, Dirk, Jenny, and Tom.

Clair set her beach towel down on the sand at a spot of her liking and set up the lawn chair next to it. She then pulled off her swim suit and was completely naked. She arched her back, looked up at the sky, and exhaled a satisfied sound as if she had finally arrived. She helped me into the lawn chair and put the cooler under my right foot. She then pulled off my shorts and tee shirt and I was naked, except for those damn casts.

Clair laid on her beach towel to sunbath. “Ummm…this is so nice Billy. To be free of clothes, out in the open air, and letting the sun and air wash over my body,” she squirmed on her towel with excitement. “I feel so sexy, I wish you could be down her with me.”

“What would we do Clair?”

“Oh, I don’t know, we’d think of something,” she said as her hand slid toward her crotch.

“Clair, you know you can’t touch yourself, or have sex out here? It’s just a nude beach.”

“Aw…you’re no fun,” she said with a smile that said she knew, but was just having fun with canlı casino siteleri me.

My cock stiffened looking at her naked body and at the thought of Clair touching herself. I became worried that others would see my hard-on. “Jesus! Clair, you got me all worked up here.”

Clair opened her eyes. She turned her head and saw my predicament. She grabbed the second beach towel she brought along and threw it onto my lap. “What caused that?” she asked with a grin.

“Your talk of me on the towel with you while you played with your pussy, for starters, Sis. Not to mention me sitting up here gazing at your lovely nakedness.”

Clair smiled contently at me. “Well, look elsewhere. Look out at the water, or look at that naked old guy to our right. That should take your mind off of me,” she said, with a giggle.

I looked out at the water and imagined myself swimming. I closed my eyes and day dreamed. I dreamt I stood up, all healed, flexed my muscles, broke free of these casts, and ran into the water and swam across the lake. As I reminded myself of my injuries, I began to feel sorry for myself again. That damn deer had really fucked up my summer; it was going to be a long six weeks until those casts come off. If at least only one arm remained uninjured, and free for my use, I’d been ok with it; not happy, but I would have been able to manage to get around and feed myself. With both arms locked up, it was damn depressing needing so much assistance, I was an independent type. Seems the only thing that took my mind off my sad state was sex, or the thought of anything sexual. I sat there and thought of the past few days with my sister. I’m almost certain that if I hadn’t gotten injured, Clair and I would not have done anything sexual. Something had changed in me, and I suppose Clair too. Before my accident, putting my sister and sex in the same thought was a chore at best, not something I frequently spent time on. But now, it was all I could think of.

Clair sunbathed for about 20 minutes and then got up and announced she was going for a swim.

“You going to be OK here for a while?” She asked as she pulled the towel off my lap. My cock had deflated some, but retained a reserved heftiness, a readiness to do business.

She ran the few yards from her towel to the lake and kept running right into the water until she was deep enough to dive in. When she surfaced, she swam out to the middle of the lake and then turned herself on her back and languished there floating.

I closed my eyes and returned to my daydream. I thought of Clair’s hands around my cock. Her petite, hand-model hands stroking me lightly as she looked me in the eyes. As these thoughts washed through my mind, my cock grew a little, but I retained control over it, I couldn’t let it get completely hard again, now that Clair was swimming, I couldn’t reach the towel to cover myself.

“Hi, Billy,” a voice interrupted my day dream. I opened my eyes and Jenny was standing naked not ten feet from me. “I heard about your motorcycle accident. Wow! You really did a number on yourself.”

Jenny was someone I had always wanted to date, but thought she was out of my reach. I would drool over her, but never had the nerve to ask her out. In high school, she never gave me the time of day. Besides, she was chronically unavailable, she seemed to always have a boyfriend. Now, she was not only standing there talking to me, she didn’t have a stitch of clothes on. My first instinct would have been to tense up and get all nervous, like I did back in high school seeing her walk towards me in the hallways. But, something had really changed in me, I felt a calm confidence about myself and I can only attribute that to Clair.

“Hey Jenny, good to see you,” I said confidently, and with a smile that bespoke both suaveness and a hint of innuendo. I was seeing more of Jenny than I had ever thought was possible. I had imagined her naked many a time. Reality did not disappoint. “You still going out with Dirk?”

“Yeah…” She said in a resounding tone and looking in the direction of Dirk and Tom, who were acting like a couple of jerks. Dirk-the-Jerk, I referred to him behind his back. Those two idiots were chucking all kinds of crap into the lake, logs, large rocks, a garbage can, anything they could get their hands on. All the while they were hooting and hollering like a couple of lunatics. “Maybe not for long,” she finally finished her sentence in the same resounding tone.

“Are you OK? It looks like you got messed up bad,” she asked, looking at my casts.

“I broke both my arms and my leg, cracked a few ribs and got bruised up pretty bad. Nothing permanent, I’ll heal. Six weeks the casts come off, and I’ll be as good as new.”

She surveyed my body, taking in my injuries. Her eyes followed my right leg cast all the way up to my crotch, and once her gaze landed there, she stopped to take in the view of my half hard cock. I was proud of myself. The old me would probably have been mortified. I just sat there confidently smiling at Jenny as she gazed at my manhood. Half hard, my cock still looked big but not like I couldn’t control myself. It broadcasted I was a player; I was enjoying the scene, but in charge of my excitement.

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