Incest The Mom Memories" by 'alwayswantedto' collection

[sarit11]

 
So I started rubbing the back of Lynn's calves. I moved up to the part where her muscles
thickened then traveled back to her heels and around to the bottom of her feet, tickling
her soles. I moved slowly, not just because that was the way I would normally do it,
but also because I wanted to avoid detection. I glanced toward Dale several times,
feeling guilty, like I was doing something wrong and violating his trust. But my obligation
to my sister won over that and the fear I felt within myself about my own weakening
resolve. I continued stroking Lynn's legs.
 
Lynn shifted her weight and wiggled her legs about when she turned the page to start
a new puzzle, causing her feet to pull away from under my leg. I lifted my thigh,
expecting her to push her feet back underneath but instead she pulled them, and my
hand, toward herself. My hand was suddenly pressed between Lynn's ankles and the bottom
of her tweed skirt. I sat still, wondering if it was an accident and whether I should
extricate my hand. I looked at Dale's office and caught him looking at me again. He
smiled and I smiled awkwardly in return. He was still watching when Lynn's hand dropped
onto mine and urged it to continue its stroking caress along the back of her legs.
I thanked the architect that had designed this house with a sunken living room. Dale
was straight across and slightly back from my line of sight looking behind Lynn so
he probably couldn't see anything on the couch anyway, just our heads and shoulders.
 
 
I looked down, briefly mesmerized by her instructing hand, then looked back at her
husband. I smiled and Dale smiled back before looking down at his desk. Lynn's hand
released mine but hovered above until its continued motion was assured. I was acutely
conscious that my hand, stroking the back of Lynn's ankle and calf, was also rubbing
along the bottom of her brown, tweed skirt.
 
I don't know how may times my hand scbangd along that rough material before I realized
that when Lynn had changed her position she had cocked her hips. The one nearest me
was turned up so my hand was rubbing between her legs and bottom more than it was
scbanging down the side as before and, at the end of each stroke, my hand briefly left
the roughness of the skirt to stroke the underside of Lynn's bare thighs. I must have
been unconsciously lengthening my strokes because I began sensing more and more skin.
Looking down, I confirmed that I was almost reaching the back of Lynn's knees with
each stroke but I noticed something else too. With each stroke back to her heels,
my hand tried to drag her skirt along too, and it was meeting with some success. I
looked up quickly to see if Dale was watching but he was sitting back, face buried
intently in a large reference book.
 
As I looked back at Lynn, her puzzle book caught my eye. It wasn't a new one; it was
tattered and old, and looked strangely familiar. Just then, Lynn shifted slightly
and my hand, caught in mid-stroke halfway down her leg, suddenly slipped up, slightly
between her thighs with the arch behind my thumb pressing against the hem of her skirt.
There was no reason for my thumb to be extended like that between my sister's legs
but it was and as my hand continued stroking back, my thumb dragged Lynn's skirt along
with it.
 
Lynn's leg muscles were tense and I realized that she was holding herself up from
the couch, making it easier for the skirt to travel. My hand slid back along her calf,
this time caressing more than rubbing, all the way to her knee. On the way back, I
consciously flipped my thumb up high and pulled it between the press of Lynn's thighs,
hooking and dragging her skirt way back. Lynn's leg muscles relaxed and she sank into
the cushion, her thighs closing over my thumb. I jerked my head toward Dale. He was
still reading. I leaned toward Lynn.
 
"Are they hard puzzles?"
 
My voice was unintentionally hoarse, reflecting the feelings coursing through me at
that moment. My thumb pressed deeper between Lynn's thighs and I knew from the heat
it was near her panties.
 
"Yeah. It's one of Mom's."
 
My breath caught and I stared at the book, searching for clues but I didn't recognize
it as the one that had started us on our path of love. Of course not, idiot. She wouldn't
have left that one for someone to find. I breathed again and realized that Lynn's
breath had caught too when she inhaled. This wasn't a park and Lynn wasn't sleeping.
We were sitting together and my hand was between her legs. Why wasn't she jumping
up and slapping me? Why wasn't she at least angry? I mean, her husband was only twenty
feet away!
 
I wiggled my thumb and Lynn shuddered but her hand began filling in a word as if nothing
had happened. I pushed my hand deeper between her thighs, ignoring her calves, and
moved it back and forth in short strokes, worming its way back toward her panties.
Lynn finished the word and looked up and away and I knew she was looking at Dale.