Sandy Stephan - Sister's incest secrets

“If I were you I'd let him suffer,” said Aunt Liz. “It's alright for a man to get drunk but that's no reason for you to put yourself out.”

“He's sleeping now, anyway,” said Mum. “I might go into the city for a while and shop or something. It's about time I got out of the house.”

“That's the spirit. Hey, I might go with you. We can look up a few friends or have lunch together, how does that sound?”

“Yes, that would be nice,” Mum said unenthusiastically.

They left about an hour later. Aunt Liz lingered for a moment till Mum was out of the door, then she threw her car keys at Bob and said: 'Take your sister for a drive and leave your father to suffer in solitude.” She winked and disappeared.

We gave them a few minutes to get under way, and then we hopped into Aunt Liz's car. Bob took the wheel, of course. He loved to drive. But instead of putting his all into driving, he turned to me the moment we cleared the front gate and said: “So what happened between you and Dad? Don't tell me you laid him.”

“Not exactly,” I said hesitantly. And then, bit by bit, I told him the whole story. Bob listened intently, driving at a fast clip all the while. Now and then he shook his head and sighed, as though it was all too much for him. When the story came to an end he said: “Phew! I didn't think Dad had it in him. But he couldn't go all the way, eh? Probably afraid you'd lose respect for him. Jesus, Kathy, you're quite the little operator, aren't you? Who are you thinking of balling next, Mum?”

“I see you're beginning to think of me like all the others,” I said angrily. “You think fucking is all I care about Well, that's not fair, Bob. I only do it with those Hove.”

“Just kidding,” said Bob. We reached the freeway ramp and when he had nosed the big, powerful car into the mainstream of traffic he floored the accelerator, letting it have a free rein for a minute or so till the bulk of traffic was behind us. “Anyway, I understand now why he went on a drunk last night You must have blown his mind for him.”

“And that isn't all,” I said with a reminiscent smile.

“Yeah… but listen, it's about time we coordinated matters a little in this family. Since you've come home you've turned Elaine into a lesbian by the looks of it we've alienated Nora, driven Dad around the bend, and brought the beast out of Aunt Liz. God only knows what Mum is going through at the moment.”

“Speaking of Mums,” she said, pointing ahead, “there they are, tooling along the freeway. Why don't you just drop back a little and follow them.”

“What for? Let them have their day on the town and well go some place private to fuck up a storm.”

“Later-right now I want to check something.” It was just a hunch, as they say in detective stories. A few small points hadn't gelled with me over the past few days. Mum seemed too complacent, and things were happening that had to have a cause, a prime mover… yet they had been made to look like circumstantial little events. Why? I had no idea. I just had a feeling that Mum and Aunt Liz weren't going shopping, and that it was important for us to know what they were about to do.

Bob hung back far enough to remain undiscovered. They were talking, anyway. Mum and her sister always had plenty to say to each other in spite of having lived close to each other ever since they'd moved out of their parental home. They made a turn just within the outskirts of town and headed toward one of the better neighborhoods in the area. It became harder to tail them and if they hadn't been so talkative they would surely have spotted Aunt Liz's conspicuous car. At last Mum pulled over in front of a neat suburban home insulated from the street by a high hedge and a number of small trees. Both women got out of the car and walked up to the front door.

“See?” said Bob. “They're just going to visit old friends. Now what did you want to know that for?”

“Let's just check.” He shrugged and parked the car around the corner. We walked warily towards the house, looking around to make sure no one was watching us. Everything was dead quiet, clean and orderly, curtains before all windows-but surely there'd be an old biddy to peer out through the lace, a hand on the hot line to the police station. I figured it was worth the risk.

Bob hung back while I peaked through the front windows. Nothing. Just a nice, neat living room. We went around to the side and found even less. Bob began to motion me to come back to the car and let the matter slide. I was determined to find out what was going on in that quiet house. The rear windows told me nothing either. They had to be upstairs. That in itself was odd.

“Let's go!” Bob whispered. He hated sneaky operations. I shook my head and he told me he'd wait for me in the car. That was fine with me. When he'd gone I went around the house once more, this time testing the doors. The back door was open. I removed my shoes and walked barefoot into the house. From upstairs came the sound of laughter-either Aunt Liz's or Mum's. I could hear my heart thumping wildly. This was turning into a real caper!

Up the stairs, terrified every step of the way. At the end of a short corridor the laughter was loudest. A door was slightly ajar. I came as close as I dared and, pressed hard against the wall, I looked in. Mum was in a chair, her legs crossed, a drink in her hand-and she had her eyes on me. “Come in, Kathy,” she said pleasantly. Aunt Liz opened the door the rest of the way and I walked in, feeling flushed and stupid. When I sat down I found we weren't alone. Two men sat on a couch facing Mum and Aunt Liz, big, muscular, swarthy men who seemed most amused.

“This my daughter, Kathy,” said Mum, “and this is Harry, and that handsome brute next to him is Carl.” We nodded at each other and then I turned to Mum to see what all this meant. “Carl has been my lover for quite a while,” said Mum in reply to my silent question. “And Harry helps him out sometimes. Your aunt and I come here regularly. In fact, you might say we're their best customers, isn't that right, boys?”

“Yes indeed,” nodded Carl.

“Customers?” My head felt very fuzzy at that moment This wasn't the mother I knew! Mum actually seemed urbane and swinging, sitting there holding her fancy drink and talking about lovers. What had happened to the zombie?

“Carl and Harry make a Irving out of filling in the gaps left by busy husbands,” Aunt Liz explained. “Really, it doesn't cost much more than a reasonable session at the beauty parlor, so it's well worth it. And when you pay for something, you get exactly what you want-an inestimable advantage, you see?”

“I didn't think you would have to pay for it, either of you,” I said lamely.

“Take my word for it, my dear,” said Mum, “it works out far better this way. Saves me having to sit in bars day in, day out.”

That put the finishing touches to my trauma. I just couldn't picture Mum sitting in a bar asking for a match from oily strangers. “Well, well,” I said finally, “and I thought you'd given up on sex long ago.”

“Not me, Kathy, but your father did-ten years ago, as a matter of fact.”

“Ten years ago? Why does that seem to make sense to me?”

“Because that's when you did something to him that made him long for other kinds of sex, the kinds I couldn't give.” There wasn't a trace of bitterness in Mum's voice as she said it. She knew that my seven-year-old's mind hadn't been able to grasp the implications of sitting with my naked little pussy on Dad's erect cock. “Yes,” she went on, “that's what did it As a result I had to find my pleasure elsewhere. Liz has been a big help to me in that field because she knows it backwards. Thanks to her I found Carl and Harry.”