"You mean…?"
"Yes," Gloria said, knowing she could not back out now without making it sound stupid. "Do just what he did to you."
Forgetting her bath, Sharon threw on her terry cloth robe and smiling happily, went directly to her brother's room. Without knocking on his door, she threw it open and rushed in.
"Hey!" Stan shouted in surprise. He had been stripped almost naked, standing in his shorts. He looked up to see his sister glaring at him. "What do you want, Sharon? You better get to your room before Mother finds you in here."
"She told me to come here, smarty," Sharon taunted. "And she told me to bite you the way you did me."
"Oh no, you aren't going to bite me!" He threw up his hands in an exaggerated motion, backing away with mock fear in his face.
Sharon stalked him, cornering her brother between a chest of drawers and the wall. Laughing gayly, she reached for him and grabbed his arm. Pulling it toward her, she attempted to sink her teeth into the flesh. Stan squirmed away, dancing about the room like a shadow boxer. "Come on," he teased, jabbing with his fist in her direction. "Come on, chicken!"
Sharon rushed him, and the two children fell areola, the bed in a mass of tangled legs and arms. Hearing the gleeful antics, Gloria went to the still open doorway of her son's bedroom and looked in at them. Sharon and Stan were tossing each other about the bed, laughing and giggling as they tickled each other. The terry cloth robe Sharon was wearing twisted high about her hips, and Gloria saw the open crotch of her daughter as she fell toward the foot of the bed. Unconcerned as to her exposure, Sharon quickly jumped across her brother's body and straddled him with her thighs. She pinioned his arms and giggled down into his face. "Holler uncle!" she said.
Sharon's buttocks were planted firmly on his heaving stomach, and Gloria was amazed to see her son's penis jutting up from the wide open fly of his shorts. The organ was swollen into full hardness, the head smooth and pink-red in color. Immediate thrills of passion shot through her, causing her body to tremble violently as she stood in the doorway. Reaching out to catch herself before she fell, she stared with hot, hungry eyes at the throbbing instrument obscenely cleaving the air.
Apparently aware of his erection, Sharon reached a hand back and grasped it tightly in her fingers. She twisted it cruelly, demanding he holler uncle again.
"Screw you, Sis!" Stan hissed up into her face.
"Now that's better than uncle," Sharon said gleefully, hunching her buttocks back and forth on his stomach. "Let's do it, Stan. Let's fuck."
"You're crazy!" he snapped. "With Mother still up?"
"She told me to come in here."
"Maybe so… but she sure didn't tell you to fuck me, did she?"
Sharon giggled cutely. "No, not that. But since I'm here… well, I'm sort of hot, Stan."
"Then go jerk off," he snorted, arching his body in an attempt to throw her from him. "I'm not about to fuck you… not until Mother's asleep, anyway."
The lewd words seemed to grow in her mind as she stood there, and feeling as if they were a call to her boiling passions, Gloria stepped into the room and walked dazedly toward the bed where her two children struggled. She looked down at them for a moment, then she reached out to touch her daughter's arm. She seethed detached from her body, as if her mind was outside it, controlling her actions by remote buttons.
Sharon's head twisted about in fright, and she found herself staring up into the strange eyes of her mother. Quickly, she pulled her hand from the still erect organ of her brother, jumping from him in shame. Her robe parted momentarily, exposing her curly pubic hair. Her fingers fumbled to cover herself as she flushed with embarrassment.
Stan's eyes filled with fear as he found his mother looking down at him. Nervously he tried to replace his hard penis into the folds of his white boxer shorts. "Moth…" he stammered, unable to continue.
Without speaking – afraid to utter a sound – Gloria sat down on the edge of the bed and stared at her son and daughter. The two teen-age children cringed from her, fear registering on the young faces. For a long time they stared at each other, not speaking.
After what seemed hours, Gloria's voice came out in a hoarse, thick sound. "What… how… I mean," she stammered, her own face flushing with a pink color. "What were you two… doing?"
"N-nothing, Mother," Sharon stuttered, twisting her hands in the folds of her robe nervously. "We… we weren't doing… anything."
The intense sensation of fire roaring out of control deep in her genitals seemed to give Gloria courage. The embarrassment left her face, and she lifted her head proudly, staring at the children. "You weren't? Then why were you saying to wait for me to go to bed? And, Sharon, why were you holding onto Stan's… uh thing?"
Brother and sister glanced guiltily at each other, neither about to answer the question.
"How long have you two been doing these things?" Gloria demanded.
"We haven't been…" Stan started.
"Please, Stan," Gloria looked at her blushing son. "Don't lie to me… not now! It's… it's… important."
"Important?" Sharon said stupidly. "How can it be important, Mother?"
"Something has happened… to me…" Gloria said, feeling the tingling build higher and higher. She was painfully aware of the dampness in the crotch of her panties and of the quivering throb of her clitoris.
"What's happened?" Sharon was looking concerned now, no longer afraid of punishment from her mother. "In the bathroom… you looked like you were sick then, and now…"
"Now… no, I'm not sick, darling," Gloria said, looking at her daughter with pleading eyes, her hands pressing tightly into her groin. "I'm… Oh, I can't tell you… you'll think I'm… terrible!"
"No, we won't," Stan said, sitting up to look quizzically at the expression on his pretty mother's face. "Tell us, Mother. Can we do something about it?"
"Yes… yes, you could," Hot tears fell from her tormented eyes as her brain whirled in a mass of confused emotions. She knew it was wrong, yet she could not control the things that were happening to her. "But if I told you both… you'd… you'd be ashamed of me! You would think I was insane… a… a pervert!" she blurted.
As young as he was, Stan seemed to suddenly understand the tortured thoughts and desires of his mother. He looked at her long and hard, then glanced at his sister. Sharon's blue eyes were huge with questions.
"Was it because of…" Stan turned back to his mother, who was now looking longingly at his concealed penis, "… seeing me. I mean, of seeing my dong?"
"Oh, God!" Gloria moaned, rocking back and forth. "Yes! Oh God, yes!" she shouted.
"And when you looked at me, Mother?" Sharon asked in a low voice.
"Yes… you too," Gloria moaned in her misery. "Now you know… and you think I'm terrible… an insane pervert… a sex fiend…"
For some time, Sharon and Stan stared at their mother as she sobbed in silence, yet her tear-filmed eyes continued to stare hotly from one young person to the other. Becoming bold, Stan reached into the fly of his shorts and hauled out his now deflated organ. He let it hang, exposed between his thighs and watched the expression on his mother's face. Gloria moaned with intense desire as she stared with wide eyes at the limp organ.
"You can look at me, Mother," Stan said, leaning back on the headboard of his bed. "I don't mind… if you like it."
"Ooohhh…" Gloria moaned, unable to take her eyes from the boy's penis. Her hands pressed hard into her lap and she felt as if her climax was ready to explode inside the burning genitals, yet it would reach the peak, then flow back again, leaving her in frustrated emotional turmoil. "You… you," she whispered thickly to her daughter. "You, too! Let me see your…"