MY SISTER JEAN
Chapter 20 - Conclusion, A Resolution - Of Sorts
A sudden knock on the loose-fitting screen door sounded
like a gun shot, loud and jarringly unexpected.
With a faintly British accent, a young man's voice
called out, "There's a phone call for Billy or Jean." And
in another moment, "Anyone there?"
Jean and I looked at each other. I lifted an eyebrow
that asked, 'Do you know?' She shrugged her shoulders as if
to say, 'Beat's me.'
A naked Margi had slumped to her knees, one hand
thrust between her thighs and the other unsuccessfully
trying to cover her breasts. We were all uncomfortably
aware that whoever it was had only to step off the walk to
look through the unshuttered screens to see the three of us,
mostly naked. We remained frozen.
"Anyone home?" the disembodied voice asked again, and
again knocked.
Suddenly jarred from my inaction, I called out, "Okay.
Be right there." Turning to my sister and our friend,
Margi, I held my hands out, palms up and whispered, "Stay
here. I'll be right back."
Jean placed her hand on my arm and asked in a
surprisingly loud voice, "Where'd you think we were going to
go?"
"Shit, I don't know...but wait anyway, okay?"
Jean smiled and nodded. "Hurry back."
I slipped into some sailing shorts and a fresh T-shirt.
As I was leaving, I glanced back to see Jean kneeling beside
the cowering Margi. It occurred to me that if Margi wasn't
concerned about her nudity, she might understandably be
concerned about her job at this remote and high-priced dive
resort.
Whoever had brought the message was gone when I went
outside. Threading the darkened paths that connected our
octagonal beach house with the larger central building, I
reflected that only our Mom knew where we were. Entering the
main structure, I walked into the bar where our hostess,
Gladys, glanced up and nodded her head toward a phone
receiver off the hook. "Your mom," she offered.
"Hello?"
"Billy? How are you? You and Jean okay?" It was Mom.
Damn, I should have called to let her know. "I'm
sorry, Mom..." I began but she cut me off.
"Don't worry about it. That's okay. Gladys already
told me that everything's fine; I just wanted to hear your
voice. Or Jean's."
"We're fine." And then searching for something to say,
I asked, "Remember Margi, the Dive Master from last year?"
"Oh, yes. I remember Margi. I'm sure *you* do!"
It amazed me how my mother could put so much suggestive
meaning into her voice.
Before I could frame an answer, she went on, "Gladys
said that the three of you had gone to listen to CD's after
dinner. Having fun?"
Cripes. Half a world away. Did we have any privacy? I
looked at Gladys and she smiled a conspiratorial, almost
wolfish grin.
"Uh...yes. We were..." and I didn't know just what to
say. "We were...uh, playing a game."
"Truth or Dare?" Mom asked.
What the hell is this, I wondered?
"How'd you know?" I asked, perplexed once again by my
mother's seeming omniscience.
"I didn't, but it's what came to mind. Probably
because that's what I'd do in the same situation." She
paused and then went on, "You and Jean explore 'your
situation' anymore?"
Our 'situation.' I was embarrassed. Even though we'd
had an open, heart-to-heart conversation about sex, Mom and
me, I still found it difficult to be comfortably candid.
"Uh...nothing new, Mom. We're okay, honest."
"Baby, I'm not checking up on you two. I love you both
and have confidence that whatever you do, it'll be all
right. Now get back to your party, tell Jean I love her and
say hello to Margi. And oh yes. Tell Margi not to do
anything I wouldn't do...and that leaves her a lot of
latitude. Bye." she ended up laughing.
"Bye, Mom."
I turned to leave and Gladys said, "Tell Margi to
relax."
"What?"
"Just relax, have a good time...that's all."
Once again I had the feeling that I wasn't completely
in the know about what was going on. Were we that
transparent?
I was mulling that over in my mind as I walked the
darkened path back to our room. I noticed that the blinds
were drawn and the room apparently dark as I let myself in.
There was a yellow, dim light, a candle flickering on the
night stand. One of Margi's CDs was playing, a soft,
melodic sound that I didn't recognize, but I liked.
"Hi, Billy," two voices intoned, almost in unison.
"Welcome back," added Jean.
"Margi, Gladys says, 'relax'."
"What?"
"Relax. She says to relax. That's all. You know what
that's a about?"
"Uh, I'm not quite sure. But she thinks I'm too
tense."
As I dark adapted, I saw Jean was sitting on the floor,
legs outstretched, her back against the foot of the bed and
Margi was leaning back against Jean in turn, between her
legs. Jean was holding Margi loosely, one hand over a full
breast. Both were naked as best I could see in the
flickering light.
"We've been talking," Jean added, in response to the
question unasked. "Margi's been telling me about her sex
life."
Margi squirmed, I thought uncomfortably, and looked
down, not saying anything.
"Isn't that so, Margi?" Jean asked, nudging her breast.
"Oh, Jean...don't," she murmured so softly I almost
missed it.
"Oh, Jean, yes. Billy would be pleased to hear what
you've been telling me." And then turning to me, she added,
"Our little Margi's really quite experienced, Billy. Shy,
but experienced. Right, Margi?"
She murmured something. I couldn't hear her, so I
kneeled between her splayed legs and said, "What was that,
sweet girl? What'd you say?"
"She'll tell you, Billy, but first she's got to be
relaxed. That phone call scared her. Is everything all
right?"
I nodded and offered no further explanation.
"Tell you what, Billy. Pull up the ottoman there
behind you and sit facing us. Put your legs over Billy's,
Margi so he can move in and be close. Okay?"
Perhaps it was because of the dim, flickering candle
light or perhaps Jean and Margi had come to some trust or
understanding while I'd been talking with our mom because
she didn't demur at all. Sliding up toward them, my own legs
splayed, Margi lifted hers and dropped her thighs over mine.
In turn, my legs were draped over Jean's. My dark
adaptation and the candle light enabled me to appreciate the
furry core of Margi's pelvis in the process.
"Hmmmm, nice, Margi."
"Are you commenting on Margi's pussy, Billy?"
Margi gasped and I felt her trying to close her legs,
but she was stuck in an open and exposed position.
Not waiting for a reply, Jean went on, "Tell Billy what
you told me a few minutes ago, Margi."
"Oh, I couldn't..." she began but was cut off by Jean
immediately.
"Sure you can, girl." Jean cupped both her breasts in
her hands and rolled her nipples between thumb and
forefinger. She then turned her attention to me. "I'll
start." she began. "Margi has always wanted to acknowledge
her body as well as her sexuality. She told me that making
out in the dark is fun certainly, but not exciting. She's
attracted to the excitement. Aren't you, girl?"
Margi glanced at me and then tried to look up at Jean
but couldn't manage fully. Jean nudged her again and she
nodded.
"Aren't you?" prompted Jean.
"Yes."
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, I love the excitement."
"And?"
"And...I'm too embarrassed to ask for it."
Patiently, "For what, Margi?"
"For someone to tell me what to do." she said softly
and then gaining some confidence, added in a louder voice,
"I want to do things. All sorts of things, you know - sexy
things - but I'm too shy. It's not that I don't want to try
things, everything, it's that I'm so embarrassed. If
someone, you, *makes* me do things...well, then I can't
refuse. It's like it's not my fault. Then it's okay. Know
what I mean?"
"Good, Margi. Now let me ask you this. Are you
willing to tell Billy what our deal is?"
Margi nodded, studying the rug in front of her, not
looking up.
"ARE you, girl?" Jean nudged her again.
Margi suddenly looked up at me and stared for a long
moment before saying, "Yes, I am."
I touched her for the first time. I placed my hands on
the tops of her thighs and slowly stroked up and down.
"Then tell me, Margi. What's the "deal' - the one you've
made with Jean. I'd like to hear you tell me."
She took a deep breath and blew it out. Then another
before beginning. "I told Jean that I was so excited, so
hot a little while ago - when we were playing Truth or Dare
- that I would have done anything, and Jean asked,
'Anything?'"
She took another breath and continued. "When she asked
me that, I was excited and afraid at the same time, but I
guess I was more excited then frightened so I said, 'Yes,
anything.'"
Jean continued to roll Margi's nipples in her fingers.
They were swollen and dusky. I hunched a little closer and
ran my fingers over the tops of her thighs, ending just an
inch away from her public thatch. "Go on," I urged.
"She asked me if I'd be your slave for the night, the
two of you's slave. I wasn't sure what that meant, but
somehow it made me wetter."
She looked at me again and asked, "Know what I mean?"
"The slave part or the wetter part?" I asked.
"Uh...I figure you know about the wetter part. I'm
horny. But do you know about the slave part? What does that
mean to you?"
"No, Margi. The real question is: What does that mean
to *you*?"
She looked down, nibbling on her lower lip and brushed
the top of her pubic hair with her fingers. "Well, I
*think* it means that I have to do what you tell me to do,
that I have no choice."
I traced a line across the top of her pubic bush,
meeting her hand in the process. She started to pull away
but I grabbed her hand and pulled it back to the top of her
pussy and held it there.
"Margi, it's important to know that you *do* have a
choice. You always do. This is a game. That's all it is.
And in this game, we play that you're a slave, our slave,
and that you have to do the things we say. Keep in mind, if
you agree, we'll expect you to keep your bargain. We'd
never hurt you, but we might embarrass you and we just might
make you even hornier. But you do have a choice. Do you
understand that?"
After I removed my hand from hers, she resumed touching
the area around the top of her slit, idly moving her fingers
through her bush.
Oddly stronger, she went on. "Oh, I know that. And
I've already made the decision. That's the "deal" I made
with Jean. I'm yours for the evening and I have to do what
I'm told." Glancing back, she added, "Isn't this right?"
Jean answered promptly, "That's right, girl and the
first thing I want you to do is play with yourself. I'll
play with your tits. You play with your little cunny. Yes,
show Billy your pussy."
Jean has assumed a firm, directing voice and I took my
clue from that. "While you're playing with yourself, Margi,
tell us...when did you start masturbating?"
She ran the index finger of her right hand up through
her slit. In the yellow light, I could see her finger
glistening with her wetness.
"Um...I'm not really sure. A long time ago. I was
young. I mean, very young. Maybe eight. Even seven. I
don't remember. All I knew was that it felt really good and
I knew I wasn't supposed to be doing that. I didn't know
why. I don't remember anyone telling me not to touch
myself, but I knew. Maybe my girlfriend told me. I knew it
was naughty, but it felt too good to stop."
"Ever get caught?" Jean asked.
Margi slipped two fingers into her slit and then rubbed
her juice on my hand as I toyed with her pubic hair. When I
looked at her, her eyes were glistening, intense and wide
open. She smiled a little.
"Several times. It was embarrassing, but it also was
exciting. I think I *wanted* to get caught."
"Did you cum then?" I asked, holding my hand up to my
nose.
Her eyes glittered as she watched me. I smelled her
and then touched my tongue to my fingers. She jerked.
Now a little more breathless, she answered, "I could
cum as long as I can remember. Just some were more powerful
than others."
I wondered what she was trying to tell us, but before I
could frame another question, Jean asked, "Tell us about the
powerful ones, girl. Can you remember what made them that
way?"
"Yes, I can...but I'm a little embarrassed to talk
about it."
Bending forward, I used my finger tips to pull open the
lips of her pussy, watching her finger roll her clit.
"Then all the more reason to tell us," I interjected.
"It's the stuff about which we are most embarrassed that's
often behind the greatest erotic charge."
"Exactly," chimed Jean. "Remember, you're our slave,
so tell us everything girlfriend."
I presented the wet tips of my fingers to Jean. She
sniffed them and said, "I'm beginning to understand why you
keep snitching my panties, Billy."
Margi looked back and forth between us, straining her
neck trying to see Jean behind her. I nodded to her. "Go
on."
"You guys make me forget what I'm saying..."
"The most powerful cums," I prompted.
"Oh yeah! Well, it had something to do with the fear
of getting found out. That some one would catch me. The
closer I got to discovery, the more powerful my cums got. A
couple a times I got caught with my hand in my panties as I
was about to cum and it shot me over the edge. I just
doubled up and groaned, it was so strong."
I scrunched a little closer again. Margi had to lift
her thighs even higher as I moved in. She looked down and
saw my cock, inches from her. She tentatively reached out
to touch me and I said, "In a moment. But right now, I want
to look at you. I want to touch you. Have you ever been
this open for anyone?"
She shook her head and continued to look at my cock,
now bobbing. I ran my finger through her slit. It was
swampy and the musky scent of her was filling the room.
"And have you *wanted* to show yourself this way? "
She nodded her head vigorously. "All the time! I
don't understand it, but I *want* to be seen. I put myself
in positions where I'll be exposed and then almost die of
embarrassment when I am. And I keep doing it. I get so hot
sometimes I have to..."
"Masturbate?" Jean prompted.
"Yes. I *have* to get off. I even stick things up
inside of me." She paused and then added, "God, I can't
believe I said that!"
Turning her back to the moment, I asked, "Can you feel
it in your pussy when Jean pinches your nipples?"
I nodded to Jean. Margi gasped with the intensity of
Jean's pinch. "Can you feel that in your little cunny,
Margi?" Jean asked, tugging on her swollen nipples.
Margi bobbed her head and groaned, as she slid down a
bit, pushing her cunt at my fisted cock. I slid the head of
my dick up and down through her wet slit and said to her,
"Margi, bring yourself off for us. Show us how you cum. We
want to watch you, your pussy, your sweet cunt. Watch it
drool. Make it foam, girl. Jill off for us."
She looked wildly at me for a moment and then
surrendering, she threw her head back, her neck arched, tits
thrust forward and slipped the fingers of her right hand
into her cunt as she began rolling her clitoral hood with
her left hand.
I began to tap on the engorged and jutting tip of her
clit with the head of my cock, much as I'd done with Jean
once a few years before. And like Jean had done, she began a
grunting moan that sounded like, "Mmmm, uh, uh, uh," over
and over, thrusting her hips at me, plunging her fingers
into her swampy core. My desire was surging.
As she slid forward again, I noted that Jean had pulled
her hands away from Margi and into her own crotch. At least
it looked that way. I made eye contact with her and she
looked almost pained. Her brows were knitted and she was
biting her lip. Her eyes were open and wild with passion,
unfocused.
Margi had slid almost flat with her legs wrapped around
me. My cock had been pulled down into the crack of her ass
as I mindlessly began humping at her sexy, wet warmth.
Jean pulled away and shifted position, now kneeling
over Margi's head, her hand buried in her own cunt, frigging
away, almost frantically. Margi's unsupported head was
thrown way back, neck hyper-extended, mouth open. When I
caught Jean's eye again, I nodded toward Margi's open mouth
and Jean threw her leg over and lowered her cunt to Margi.
Margi immediately opened her mouth and started to suck
on my sister's pussy as she continued to frig her own cunt,
now with three fingers jammed in and still blindly humping
the air.
Jean was moaning and grunting as she fingered her clit
and Margi mouthed her slit. No less intense, Margi
continued to moan incoherently as she fucked her self with
her bunched fingers, my hard cock rubbing the crevasse of
her ass cheeks. I wondered if she'd ever taken it up the
ass.
I wrenched myself back, pulling away from Margi.
Without looking, she pulled her mouth away from Jean long
enough to moan, "No, please no."
I kneeled between Margi's legs and pulled them up,
pushing her knees toward her shoulders, baring her open and
swollen sex as she crammed her fingers into herself. Just
below was her ass hole, fringed with dark hair. I was
desperate to sink my cock into something.
"Margi, I'm going to fuck you. You okay with that?
Want me to sink my hard cock into you soft cunt, girl?"
She pulled back, took a breath and almost screamed,
"YES! Yes. FUCK me--I want it--I need it. Fuck me, please!"
Unthinking, I leaned over her, pushing the head of my
cock below her fingers. She pulled out and grabbed my cock,
guiding it into her core as I slowly sank into her, no more
than a head's depth.
"Want more than the head in there, girl?" I asked,
trying to drive her crazy."
Jean's voice entwined itself in our reverie, "Fuck her,
Billy! Fuck her while I watch. Yes, fuck her while she eats
me. Oh, God. Oh, shit. This is so hot. Put it in.
More!"
"More, Margi?"
"Oh GOD, don't tease me. I'm gonna die. Push it in,
Please!"
I eased in another inch, maybe two.
"Yesss," she hissed and humped at me.
"Yes," echoed Jean. "Oh Christ, Billy. I've wanted
this and I've been afraid of this for so long. Fuck HER,
Billy and think about fucking me!"
Bending forward and thrusting her hips out that she
might see Margi better, Jean added, "Come on, girl. Suck
me. Eat me while my brother fucks into your cunt. Give me
the fuck energy he's giving you. Fuck me with your tongue."
I lost all restraint as I pulled back and then slammed
into her as hard as I could. I touched something back
there, in the back of her cunt. She grunted and bucked
under me as I began a trip-hammer pounding, kneeling between
her splayed thighs, my eyes locked with Jean's as we climbed
higher and higher onto some impossible pinnacle. I lost
track of time. I lost track of Margi. It came down to just
the two of us.
There was just me and there was just Jean, eyes locked,
fucking and fucking, lost in the moment, lost in each other.
She started first, as her head fell back and she
grabbed her own breasts, humping Margi's mouth, her moan
drawn out to a rising crescendo. I remember thinking for a
brief moment that I'd watch this erotic sight, but my own
runaway orgasm caught me by surprise.
I couldn't remember what we'd decided about her risk.
I pulled out and fisting my cock, I stroked it once, twice
and a third time when I exploded. The first thick white
rope of cum landed on Jean's thigh. The next on Margi's chin
and throat and the last on her chest and belly. A few more
dribbles ended up in my hand. I looked at the warm white
puddle in my hand and then reached out and wiped it across
Jean's breast. Her nipple was pebble hard.
We fell silent. Frozen in the tableau, Jean sat back
on her heels, freeing Margi's face. I fell back on my heels
and looked at the wreckage. The only sound was our panting.
I couldn't really tell which was mine.
Margi slowly lifted her head and make eye contact. We
looked at each other but didn't talk. Couldn't talk. We
were drained.
Margi ran her finger through a glob of my cum on her
chest and looked at it. She looked back at me and then
placed the tip of her finger in her mouth, tasting me.
Jean watched silently and then similarly picked up a
clot of my jism with her finger and tasted it as well.
The CD was still playing, but I'd not heard it in the
past while. Gradually I heard again the waves on the beach
as I reentered reality.
I looked down. I was still holding my cock, now soft
and shriveled. It looked almost pathetic, that once proud
weapon now reduced to a soft, wet noodle.
Jean cupped her cunt and held it for a moment before
asking in a whisper, "Well, stud, how do you feel now?"
"There are no words."
"We finally got to 'do it' Billy."
"Yeah. I wonder if we'll ever get any closer, Jean?"
"I don't know, Billy. Maybe not. Maybe this is it. I
just don't know. But I am sure of one thing..."
"What's that?"
"We'll never be able to go back. You can't go home
again."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Epilogue
Because we're still very much alive, Jean and I,
there's no real ending to this story. Still, for now, it
needs to end somewhere and this is it.
I've taken the remembering, the reliving, the healing
of it all as far as I needed to. I have other things to
write, things aside and away from Jean.
More, I have a jazzy life to live and the vibrancy of
the moment, the here and now, is more vital than the sweet
memories of what once was. Given then and given now, it's a
no-brainer. I'll go with the moment any day.