I quickly looked down at the paper and began reading.
“Mike dumped the clothes onto the floor, grumbling as he began sorting them. He didn’t understand why he always got the chore of doing laundry when Jennifer was the one with all the dirty clothes. First he sorted by color, darks, lights and whites, then he remembered mom explaining how certain items had to be washed separate. “Delicates”, she called them. Pulling out the bras and panties, Mike set them to one side then tossed the whites into the washer, added detergent and bleach, and closed the top.
“Not so bad.” he thought, checking the timer on the washer. It read forty-seven minutes, enough time for him to get a game or two in on the PS3. Pushing the rest of the clothes into tighter piles, he stared down at the delicates, mostly panties. The label from one of the bras was sticking up. It was Jennifer’s he guessed, the pink lace more his sister’s style. Looking at the size of the sheer lace cups confirmed it.”
“God, I think she’s getting bigger.” he thought as he checked the size to make sure. He knew she wore a 36C, thanks to his many previous turns at laundry while mom wore a 34B. The tag read 36D. He held the bra against his chest, trying to gauge just how big her tits had gotten. He brought up images of women he had seen on line, and imagined their naked tits beneath his sister’s face.”
“Okay, that’s enough.” Mom said. “Now, just what does that passage have to do with incest?”
“I don’t know.” I replied. “I guess, well, it set things in motion. A young guy handling his sisters bras and panties, I mean, it got his imagination going. It started him down the path.”
“Right! So you’re telling me that forcing a teenage boy to wash his sister’s underwear leads to incest?”
“Well, uhm, I guess. I mean, it’s what got him thinking about her.”
“And I was hoping you might pass this class.” his mom said, shaking her head. “Try another one.”
I turned to the next page, the shower scene. Shelly and I had worked on this one a lot. She had even helped me with the insight into what the mom, I mean sister was thinking. I could nail this one.
“He stood by the door, afraid to move. He could just make out her figure through the shower door. He couldn’t make out any details, but the soft silhouette still showed the swell of her breasts, and the roundness of her ass. He watched, letting his imagination fill in the details. His hand moved down, brushing against his hardened uhm…”
I paused, trying to muster the courage. It had sounded so much better when I was reading it to myself. “Brushing against his hardened cock.” I glanced quickly in the mirror. Mom was laying there with her eyes closed. It gave me a bit of courage knowing she wasn’t about to choke me to death.
“Brushed against his hardened cock. She turned sideways, facing the shower door, her breasts pressed against the glass, the contact making them clearly visible. He let out a little gasp as he stared at the large dark nipples.”
“She jerked back, the sound carrying to her ears. Someone was there. She knew who it was, and for the briefest moment she was angry. She waited, listening for the sound of the door closing. When she didn’t hear it, she smiled to herself.”