Free: Kept In The Family

Note to readers:

Following on from The Family Way — here is another family, a new setting, a different kind of desire to untangle. My new erotic sprint series, Kept In The Family, starts Monday, August 31st. Here’s how it begins.

Tess’s Point of View

I stared out of the window at another Tuscan morning. Dawn barely touched the vineyard, which lay on a south-facing slope. One minute it was dark, the next it was light.

“I could stare at that view for the rest of my life, Finn.”

“Me too, sis.”

I looked at my stepbrother and felt my nipples harden.

I sat up in my bed, knees pressed together, pulled high, my arms wrapped around them, my chin resting on top, and I forced my gaze back to the window.

He’d slept on my bed again. Finn. I was under the comforter; he was above it. My best boy. He’d been coming to my bedroom on and off since we were six years old. Before that, we slept in the same nursery, separate beds.

We bathed together since we were one, probably before that, but the evidence — baby album pictures — only went as far back as my first birthday. A tub. Two babies. Me, a month older than Finn. A rubber duck and lots of splashing.

It was a series of polaroids that I had hidden.

“Tess. I’m starting now. Breakfast in two hours.”

Dad’s voice carried up from the vineyard terrace. I heard his boots on the gravel, the creak of the garden gate, and then nothing — just the cicadas starting up and the smell of warm soil drifting through the open shutters.

I watched him cross the terrace and disappear between the first row of vines — broad shoulders, unhurried, his hands already reaching for the nearest shoot. The scaffolding on the west wall of the house caught the early light behind him, Mom’s project framing Dad’s project, both of them half-built and waiting.

“I’ll join you in ten minutes, Dad.”

Finn looked at me and smiled.

“You got a lucky escape, sis.”

I smiled back.

“If we keep talking, we will start fucking, Finn. What was said last night —”

He pressed a finger to my lips.

“I won’t come in here until we sort this out.”

I shook my head.

“I don’t want that. I want —”

“The impossible?”

“It’s not impossible, Finn.”

He stared out of the window. The vineyard was catching the first real light now — the new rootstock Dad had planted in spring, row after row of thin green shoots held upright by wire frames. He’d been out there every morning since March, tending vines that wouldn’t produce a single grape for three years. The patience of the man. My cunt went warm just thinking about his hands in the soil.

“You and me offering each other’s biological parent our virginities sounds like a Greek tragedy, Tess.”

“It doesn’t have to be tragic. It’s a gift.”

He looked at me and gulped.

“I love you, Tess.”

“You also love my mother.”

“Yes.”

“She breast-fed you. Mom told me that when you arrived in our lives, you were days off your mother’s teat, and my Mom fed you right beside me — same milk, different teat.”

“She swapped us over, Tess.”

“And we grew up together.”

“And you fell in love with my Dad. You got your first period, and you wanted to fuck my Dad. I remember the night you told me.”

“And you told me you wanted to fuck my mother.”

“I did.”

I tilted my head and smiled.

“You and me might be a proxy, Finn.”

“For wanting to fuck each other’s parents?”

“Yes.”

I rose from the bed. The stain on the front of my white panties was obvious — a dark wet patch that had spread while I slept, my body doing what my body did when Finn was close, and the air smelled like the vineyard, and I’d spent the whole night listening to him breathe three inches away from me. My nipples pressed hard through Dad’s T-shirt. I’d taken it from the laundry pile two weeks ago. It still smelled like him — sweat, soil, and the cedar soap he used after a day in the rows.

He smiled.

“I could smell you before you stood, Tess. You’re ripe.”

“I prefer damp.”

“The stain on the front of your panties is like a map of the entire world.”

I stood and let him watch me.

It wasn’t the first time.

The morning light came through the shutters in slats and fell across my stomach, my thighs, the dark patch between my legs. The room was already warm. Tuscany in summer — the heat started before the sun cleared the ridge and didn’t stop until long after it dropped behind it.

“I know how we solve this without losing our virginities to the wrong person, Finn.”

He inhaled deeply, taking me in. I saw his expression bloom. My ovulation had thickened my scent, heightened everything — the wetness heavier, the sensitivity in my breasts sharper, the ache in my cunt deeper and more insistent.

I was eighteen and saving myself for the right man, only I wasn’t sure whether he lived in this house, and if he did, which man he would be.

“You said you had a plan last night, Tess.”

I nodded.

“It’s daring.”

“When are your plans not daring? Spill it.”

“We all love each other — you, me, our parents. But we don’t know exactly what the love is.”

“I get hard for you and Mom. All you’ve got to do is bend over — sometimes not even that.”

“I know — I get this for you and your father.”

I pointed to the stain between my legs.

He stared at my cunt through the white cotton fabric of my panties. I knew they were the underwear of his choosing. My brother didn’t care for lace or low-coverage thongs. He wanted the panties an older woman would wear — white, cotton, so they stained naturally as a girl went about her day. Briefs. Full coverage. The kind that showed everything that happened underneath them by stains and scent.

I pulled the front out and stepped closer.

“Want to see my pubes?”

“Yes.”

I slipped my fingers inside the elastic waistband and held my briefs right out—not for the first time. I stepped forward, and my brother looked.

“Do you remember the first time I showed you mine, Finn?”

He stared down at my cunt, and I followed his gaze — black pubic bush, trimmed, the curls damp and clinging, droplets of my arousal caught in the hair with a musky, heavy sheen. The smell reached both of us. My cunt went wet — not a slow gathering, a release, the slick letting go inside me and soaking through what was already soaked.

My brother inhaled deeply.

“I would have fucked you years ago, Finn. But I don’t know why I would have.”

“Mom and Dad moved us apart that night. Separate rooms. Dad saw you showing me your pussy. Do you think Mom saw my rock-hard cock?”

“I saw it. Five inches, then. It’s much bigger now. She wanted to stop us before we started.”

“I showed Mom.”

He’d never told me what happened that first night in his bedroom. Last night was the start of an epiphany. We’d talked about love, lust, and want, and got nowhere fast.

“You showed Mom your cock?”

“Yes.”

“Like, actually got it out, or she just saw it?”

He laughed.

“Mom was explaining why we had to be kept apart. I stood proudly on the bed, dropped my pajamas, and showed her my rock-hard cock. I told her I wasn’t ashamed, and I asked if I could put it inside her.”

I laughed.

“What did she say?”

“She told me maybe one day, and now put it away.”

“And then it began. The slow burn of love and lust.”

“Yes. And then it began, Tess. You know… I only ever jerked off over you and your Mom.”

Dad called me again. I had a few minutes before he would come looking.

I peeled my panties to my knees and spread my stance wider. Then I turned toward the window.

“Be there in a minute, Dad. Just getting dressed.”

I giggled. I peeled my panties all the way down, stepped out of them, turned them inside out, walked to my brother, and laid the stained gusset on his nose. He laughed. He inhaled.

“Give them back after breakfast with your fresh stains inside, Finn.”

“What will you do with them, sis?”

I pointed to the bed.

“I will lie on that bed, inhaling both of us while rubbing my clit.”

“Can I watch?”

“Maybe. But if you do, it’s part of the test.”

He took my panties in his hand, scrunched them, smelled them, and licked the gusset — his tongue dragging across the wet cotton, tasting me. Then he dropped his boxer briefs and wrapped them around his thick, hard cock.

I grinned.

“Eight inches. Not sure I can take that for my first time.”

“Dad’s cock is bigger, sis. I’ve showered with him after tennis. If this stretches you, our father will split you down the middle.”

“Good.”

I headed to my top drawer, took out fresh panties, and stepped into them. The clean cotton was cool against my cunt — a brief, sharp contrast to the heat I’d been lying in all night.

My brother was already stroking his cock — root to tip, slow, my panties wrapped tight around his shaft, the stained gusset pressed against the underside of his head.

“I wish I could stay and watch.”

“What’s your plan, sis? You said you had a plan.”

I nodded.

“Call it a test—a series of tests to separate love and lust. I’m going to suck your cock later. You’ll lick my cunt. And afterward, we will share how we feel.”

“Are you on birth control?”

I eyed him cautiously.

“I’ll tell you if we get to that stage.”

“And if you want Dad instead of me?”

I raised an eyebrow.

“And you prefer Mom to me?”

From downstairs, Mom’s voice carried up through the floorboards.

“Finn? Can you come help me with breakfast?”

His cock kicked in his grip. A hard, involuntary pulse that tightened the panties around his shaft and sent a bead of precum through the cotton.

He didn’t look at me.

He didn’t have to.

I saw it.

My brother’s cock answering my mother’s voice the way my cunt answered my stepfather’s boots on the gravel.

“See you at breakfast, Finn.”

Want to find out what happens at breakfast?
Kept In The Family — Chapter One drops Monday, August 31st. If you can’t wait, check out my Novella, The Family Way, on Amazon or read it for free on Kindle Unlimited.

The Family Way

The Family Way - Amazon & KU

They share a birthday. Same day, same year, same hospital, a coincidence that brought two broken families together before either kid could walk.

Now Bree and her stepbrother Cole are twenty. Their parents have booked a campsite in the mountains for the weekend, and after dinner, after the fire burns down and the wine runs out, their mother makes a suggestion that changes everything.

Two tents. Four people. A midnight rule that says nobody sleeps where they’re supposed to.

The Absaroka Range doesn’t care what happens inside the canvas. The pines don’t judge. And by morning, a family that thought it knew itself discovers it was only ever the first draft.