Unspoken Pleasure

Out Of Control:(Incest/Taboo)>Ep64



Was that why Austin hadn't even tried with Molly? Had the fact that she was fertile kept him from diving down that same deep hole with his younger sister? Molly was definitely attractive. She wasn't his type -- Austin liked tall, athletic girls with tight, little titties and firm, perky bottoms -- but you'd have to be dead not to be attracted to a busty, hippy blonde girl like his baby sis.

Of course, Austin's father felt the same way. Maybe that was part of it too. James had kind of 'claimed' Molly for himself. Tribal coding runs deep in the human genome, after all. But then how did that explain what Austin was doing with Christine?

Ugh, all of this was way too deep for a boy who'd barely gotten through high school on good looks and teachers' goodwill.

In any case, Austin decided he was going to enjoy all this, whatever it meant. But he knew the rest of the family didn't feel the same way. So, he resolved on two things: one, he was going to let the girls come to him. He was more than happy to indulge their urges, but he wasn't going to be the devil on their shoulder. Just the dick in their pussies. And, two, Austin was going to keep his decision to himself. As far as the family was concerned, he was on the same road to recovery as they were. The pretending could only protect everyone involved. Lying would hurt way less than honesty.

That didn't stop Austin from eyeing his mother's tight bottom in her Mom-jeans. It didn't keep him from looking at her face and remembering what it looked like as she came. How it contorted with pleasure as she rode his cock. What was the old song lyric? I'll repent, but not just yet.

"Austin?" Christine asked. She'd caught him daydreaming, "I appreciate you, ummm, appreciating me? But the table still needs to be set, and I also want your help chopping these vegetables."

"On it," Austin said. He saw a little smirk cross his mother's face. He knew she was enjoying how domesticated he'd become. He knew it should have bothered him, the whole alpha male thing, but he couldn't care when the rewards were so great. If being 'a man' in the culturally accepted sense meant doing things that kept him from getting laid, then being 'a man' was so very, very stupid.

Austin started by chopping the vegetables. It was pretty easy considering that was his job at the restaurant most nights. In fact, Austin found he was enjoying the menial task. As much as I needed this break from the real world, I kind of needed this too, he realized. He found himself trancing out in the action. His mind going blank. Not thinking, not worrying, just him and his task. His body settled into a sense of rightness. This isn't what I do, Austin thought to himself, it's what I AM.

Austin had set up the cutting board over by the sink. That way it was easier to wash the veggies before slicing them. While he was lost in his task, Christine came over to wash a bowl. Playfully, she hip-checked her son's hips with her own -- a flirty little shimmy. Austin bumped his mother back. Christine giggled. A high, jingly sound that Austin would have sworn his mother was incapable of making.

"That's a pretty big carrot you've got there," Christine said, side eyeing her son as she stood over the sink.Content is property © NôvelDrama.Org.

"This is a green pepper, Mom," Austin said, holding it up.

"I wasn't talking about the vegetable, dear," Christine said. Austin felt his face flush.

"You're saying you'd like to add some new ingredients to your salad?" Austin asked. His voice cracked as he said it. Being flirty like this with his mother was still a new experience. Weird to be nervous after everything they'd done, yet there it

was.

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"Perhaps," Christine said, now full-on smirking at her son, "With a bit of your special, creamy dressing? You know the one I like."

"I could start on that," Austin said.

There was a loud scraping noise from behind them. Mother and son both jumped in surprise.

Austin turned back and saw his sister, Lexi -- her hair still wet from a shower -- sitting down at the kitchen table. The lithe, tall brunette was wearing a baby blue tank top and a pair of running shorts: her standard uniform apparently. Gods, even her bare shoulders were hot. Lexi primly folded her arms as she sat, eyeing them both suspiciously.

Bad enough that I'm hitting on Mom, but the only time I stop is to perv on my sister? Austin wanted to chastise himself, but he was having way too much fun checking out both family members to stop. Still, he realized that maybe Lexi was better off not knowing about Christine and vice versa.

Austin took a definite step away from his mother and went back to chopping. Mother and son went silent.

"Dad's up in his study on another call," Lexi said, "And Molly's in her bedroom listening to music." She said this very deliberately, like it was an announcement. Like she was over the PA, telling them the Seahawks had made a first down on a pass to Tyler Lockett.

"Good," Christine said, absently. She grabbed the vegetables that Austin had chopped and dumped them into a large pot. Then she gathered spices from the cabinets. Austin started to set the table. He saw Lexi eyeing him as he placed the plates. When he passed behind her, she leaned back.

"Missed you at my workout," Lexi whispered, "Especially the shower after."

Austin nearly dropped the plate on the ground. He looked up at his mother, who was still ransacking the cabinets. If she heard the siblings, she didn't respond.

"I was playing Kart in the living room," Austin said.

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?" Lexi whispered back. Austin put out the silverware while his sister continued to banter playfully with him. Austin didn't have any smart responses, he kept glancing up at their mother, nervously. Christine was still busy on dinner and either didn't hear them or didn't care. But it didn't stop Austin's stomach from flopping every time his sister spoke.

"I was very slippery today," Lexi said, "Just dripping. The workout really got to me."

"Uh huh," Austin said, unable to say anything else.


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