JUNE - THE INCEST YEARS


                               by John P

                            Copyright© 2011



Chapter 1

There's that noise again. My 12-year-old brain can't work out
what it is. Maybe it's the heating system. I hope that Dad will
get somebody in to fix it. Funny though, I only hear it at night.
When I look at my bedside clock, it says 12.23, so I snuggle down
again in my warm bed and try to pick up the thread of the dream
I've just woken from.

Next morning, my sister's got my breakfast ready as usual. June's
13 and awfully pretty with her blonde hair and blue eyes. She's
about 5'6", same as me, and is slim with hips to match. I watch
her from my place at the table as she moves around getting
breakfast ready for herself and Dad. I've started noticing things
about her lately. Her bottom is curvy and when she turns round,
my eyes automatically go to her chest. The tight school blouse
shows the shape of her tits and I ogle them, wondering what those
little tits would feel like. I scold myself about the baseness of
my nature but I hope I get somebody like her when I grow up.

She's been the rock of the family since Mum left. I got terribly
upset about Mum leaving but Dad went to pieces, sobbing
uncontrollably from time to time and drinking regularly like he
never had before. Odd though, my sister showed hardly any emotion
at all, I seem to remember. She's been gone more than five years
now and Dad's got it together but the first 2 years were a
nightmare. Although she was only 8, she took over Mum's duties,
looking after both me and Dad. I learnt quickly to obey her as if
she were Mum and she did her best to sort Dad out the best way
she could.

"John, have you finished yet?" she says and I look up to see
those beautiful eyes. When she says, "Well?" I reply, "Yes,
sorry, I was miles away." She smiles, bends to kiss my forehead
and takes away my plate. She's awfully nice.

Dad comes in, buttoning his cuffs as he sits down. June's put the
food on the table and they begin to eat while I go upstairs to
finish getting ready for school. When washing of body and
brushing of teeth are completed, and I've found the 2 lost books
that I need, I pack them into my schoolbag and go back
downstairs. Dad's just finishing up his coffee and June's loading
the dishwasher and I check out her bum again, shapely in her grey
school skirt. When she turns round, my eyes fix on her little
tits again. She catches me this time and I look away, embarrassed
that I've been caught doing it. The trouble is that my dick's
stirring and I hope she doesn't see the effect she has on me.

Then I remember last night. "Dad, I heard noise last night," and
Dad and June look at each other instantly, and I'm sure it's a
look of alarm that passes between them. I'm puzzled as to why my
remark has this effect but I continue, "It's a noise I keep
hearing. I think it might be the heating." The pair of them
visibly relax and I'm left wondering why the heating problem has
alarmed them so much.

"Okay, John, I'll get somebody to check it over," says Dad,
leaving the table and heading along the hallway to get his coat
before setting off for work. June goes with him to the door to
see him off and he kisses her on the lips, but it's not a peck on
the lips which he gives me, this seems to last a few seconds.
Maybe it's a grown-up thing, I think, and shrug it off.

When he's gone, June comes back into the kitchen and asks, "Are
you all set now?" and I reply that I am but I pause for a second
to admire her pink lips. They're wet and I wonder what they would
taste like if my tongue went between them. "Well let's go then,"
she says, smiling sweetly, and I pick up my bag and we leave
together to catch the bus for school.

On the bus, her friends join us and I'm surrounded by 4 very
vocal 13-year-olds. I don't listen to what's being said, nobody's
talking to me anyway, but I do watch my sister carefully. Her
eyes sparkle as she chats with the others and I watch her mouth
move each time she speaks. The others are talking animatedly and
I'm able to scan their faces, look at their soft lips and see
their breasts move around in their school blouses. I can do this
safely because nobody looks at or talks to me; I'm just ignored.
June is still the prettiest of the 4.

When the bus arrives at our school, we all pile off and make our
way to the entrance. Once there, we go off in different
directions and June kisses me on the lips before we part. This is
usual, but today I notice for the first time how soft her lips
are and I put my arm around her to hug her and prolong it. Then I
blush before rushing off to my class, wondering what the hell I
did that for.

At lunch-time, we sit together as usual and her friends come
around again, chattering away to each other about nothing
important. I see their breasts press on the table when they lean
over to whisper a confidence and my dick stiffens once more. I
look at my sister and she's smiling at me. God, does she know my
dick's stiff? She takes my hand under the table and I let her
hold it, feeling the warmth. June's very caring, so willing to
please, even when I've been a brat. She is the pacifier of the
family; she pours oil on the troubled waters of everyday life. I
wish I could control my dick; it's becoming very embarrassing.

It's evening and she's ordered pizza to be delivered at the time
that Dad comes home from work. As long as I can remember, Dad's
given her money for the house-keeping every week and she's
managed it, just like Mum would have. Dad comes home and the
pizza arrives 5 minutes later, so we settle down at the table,
consuming the unusually tasty meal.

I help June to clear things away after Dad goes into the lounge
to switch on the TV. What I haven't failed to notice is the bra I
can see through June's tight T-shirt. It's white and flimsy, and
holds her breasts, which are the size of satsumas, in its cups.
She looks good as she moves around the kitchen and while I'm
admiring her figure, she catches me looking again. She gives me a
knowing smile and I blush, keeping my hands on my lap so that she
doesn't see the tent in my pants.

My tent eventually diminishes and I go upstairs to my bedroom to
do the homework I have been assigned. June's still downstairs
with Dad and I take the opportunity to search with my computer to
see if I can find pictures of 13-year-old girls. I've been doing
something terrible and I've got to find a way to stop it. To be
honest, I don't really WANT to find pictures of other girls
because I'm happy to masturbate to images of my sister. But
that's creepy, isn't it? I wouldn't want her ever to find out how
perverted I am. After 20 minutes of searching, I haven't found
any that I want and I switch off my computer.

When I enter the lounge, I can see over the back of the settee
that June and Dad are sat together and his arm is around her
shoulder. They spring apart when I say, "What's on?"

"Oh er... not much," says Dad, and when I move to sit in the
chair near them, Dad pulls a soft cushion onto his lap. They both
watch the TV screen, watching a programme that seems not in the
least worthy of anyone's time. What's going on? Why the odd
behaviour?

At 10.30 I'm ready for bed and I go upstairs alone to get a
shower and brush my teeth. Once I'm finished, I go to my room and
take up the book I'm currently reading in bed. 10 minutes after
that, June and Dad come up together and I hear them talking in
low voices but I can't quite hear what they're saying. Somebody
goes into the bathroom and I hear the water running as whoever it
is prepares for bed. Within 5 minutes, my eyes are drooping and
I'm on my way to sleep. I thought I heard my door open but I must
have dreamt it because I don't move and I slip into sleep.

There's that noise again. I look at the clock and it's 12.17. I'm
about to pull my pillow over my head when I think I hear
something else. Burglars! This irrational thought has brought me
completely awake and my nerves are jangling. I look around,
searching for anything that might serve as a weapon, but I find
nothing. I talk myself into being brave and open my door
soundlessly, peering out like Agent 007. The hall light has it's
dimmer setting switched to low and I creep along, intending to
wake Dad and alert him to the danger.

June's door is open and I just look in passing and then I stop
dead. Backing up a step, I peep in and she's not alone. In fact
she's not clothed either. Then I recognise the noise again and
it's coming from here, from June's room. She's mewing like a
kitten as somebody kneels before her wide-open legs and it's a
man who's busy doing something to her. I'm about to charge in and
save her when I realise that it's Dad! What's he doing to her?

She spots me in the doorway and looks straight into my eyes. Her
hands hold each side of Dad's head as she watches me watching
her. Did she do that to stop Dad turning round to see me? There's
no sign of distress in her eyes and her eye-lids droop from time
to time as I watch and I recognise that she must be experiencing
the same feelings I get when I wank myself. I can only see Dad's
back and bum but he's naked and I can hear slurping noises as he
worships between her legs.

My dick is rock hard as I continue to watch Dad doing things to
my sister and I take it out of my underpants because it's feeling
trapped in there. June sees me do this and her eyes fix on what
I'm playing with. She's mewing again and I see beyond Dad's back
to the most beautiful pair of tiny tits. His hand has moved up
and taken one of her breasts into his hand, feeling it, squeezing
it gently, and he flicks her nipple. Her own hand comes up and
she touches the other breast, deliberately looking at me as she
does it. Her fingers pull at the nipple, pulling it away from her
body and then releasing it so it snaps back. She does it again
and again, watching me as I wank much harder now.

I can't take much more. My sister's watching me wank and
encouraging me by playing with herself. My dad is doing sex to my
sister and she's loving what he's doing to her. The world's gone
mad but all that's happening to me is that my spunk wants
desperately to be shot out of my body. My body is screaming for
release and there's nothing I can do to stop it. My muscles tense
up, my body goes rigid and my dick delivers the first powerful
shot as June and I watch each other. I'm pumping now, spurt after
spurt of spunk as my dick jerks, and as I watch June's face, I
can see that I'm arousing her further with my orgasm.

When I finish shooting my spunk onto her carpet, she gives me a
look that I can only describe as love. I feel so close to her
now, now that we've shared my orgasm, her from there and me from
here. She must be getting close to orgasm too because I see her
hips begin to thrash about and Dad's head is being moved about
too by her powerful thighs. A sound escapes her throat,
"Uunghhh!" as she comes, her orgasm making her thighs clamp down
hard, trapping Dad's head as he continues his lapping at her
cunt. I have to watch, I just have to. June writhes, twists,
moans, and I see her bared teeth gritted together as she rides
along with the feelings Dad has produced in her. She cums and
cums and I wish, fleetingly, that I was the one between her legs.

Time's ticking by and she at last collapses, her bum hitting the
sheets again as she totally relaxes. She looks at me again,
making sure that I have witnessed what just happened to her, and
smiles, and I know right then that I love her more than anybody
else in the world. I'm about to start crying when I realise that
I have to go before Dad discovers me watching them, so I leave
quickly, making no noise as I go back to my room.

Back in my room, I try to make sense of what's happened. Dad's
pleased my sister with his mouth and she's helped me to shoot my
spunk by displaying her young body to me. I've watched them both
having sex and it occurs to me that I think of it neither with
horror or disgust. Shouldn't I feel that something terrible has
happened? Shouldn't I feel that me wanking to the sight of their
illicit sex is perverted? Yet I feel wonderful, happy that my
sister receives my father's love in that way.

Why didn't Dad look up when I shot my spunk? I tried my best to
be quiet as I came but it just isn't possible to cum silently.
Then I remember. June played with his ears as she watched my
spunk shoot out of me onto her carpet. He wouldn't have heard
anything. Thank God for that.

How is this going to affect us now? Surely the family will be
blown apart after these revelations, this incest. Then I hear
some noise from June's room, a rhythmic sound of bed-springs and I
know what they're doing. I want to watch, I want to see Dad make
love to my sister but I daren't. I've escaped detection once and
I'm sure I won't escape a second time. Minutes later, a grunt and
mewing sounds come from her room and I picture June, legs wide
open and clasped around Dad's waist, cumming again as Dad shoots
inside her little pussy, filling her up with his potent spunk.

My dick is hard again with those thoughts and I shake my head,
trying to clear them. I'm tired, emotionally drained by the
worries of what might happen to us. We've committed incest, all 3
of us, those 2 in the deed and me in my head. How can I look them
in the face tomorrow after what I've seen? They've committed a
crime and I've done nothing to stop them, indeed I've even
encouraged June by letting her watch me cum, arousing her further
so that it enhances her orgasm at Dad's hands and mouth.

These worries don't stop my tiredness and I drift off into sleep,
albeit a troubled sleep.


When I wake, I can smell coffee so I know that somebody is in the
kitchen. I open my door and peep out, making sure that the coast
is clear for my dash to the bathroom. All clear and off I go.
While I see to my ablutions, I'm thinking again about last night.
I'm a troubled boy who doesn't know what to do. The two people I
want to avoid running into are the two with whom I live, the two
who care for me most. I can't avoid them for ever, in fact I
can't avoid them for the next 30 minutes, I know that. Thinking
logically, only my sister knows about me, knows that I watched
them. Dad knows nothing so I'll go along with that.

Steeling my nerves, I go down to breakfast and I come face to
face with my sister in the kitchen. What do I say? Do I say
anything at all? She looks as beautiful as always, the white
blouse, the grey school skirt. I'm seeing her now with new eyes,
seeing the young girl who is in reality a woman. Her hair is
shiny, brushed to perfection, her face is radiant and her slim
figure still grabs my attention.

She smiles and says, "Sit down, John. Here's your breakfast," and
I marvel at her detachment. She's behaving like I caught her in
her underwear last night and it was a minor embarrassment, rather
than a 13-year-old girl who had full satisfying sex with her
father while her brother watched them and wanked.

I have to say something, I have to. I can't just leave it in the
air in case our world collapses and falls straight on my head. I
begin, "About last night..." and she comes straight to me, puts
her finger over my lips and calmly says, "We'll talk about it
later, John."

Dad appears and brightly says, "Good morning, you two. What a
beautiful day," and he bursts into song. "There's a bright golden
haze on the meadow, a bright..." He does that sometimes and it
suddenly hits me. He had the most wonderful sex last night and
he's as happy as can be. Then I remember that I've never seen him
go out with a woman since Mum left and I realise that he's
probably been fucking my sister for years. Oh Christ! It's
getting worse.

We all start eating breakfast and Dad is more talkative this
morning than is quite often the case. I look at June and she
looks back at me and we smile together, laughing good-naturedly
at Dad's exuberance. After the meal is finished, I help June to
clear the table and she goes with Dad, kissing him again with
meaning before he leaves for work.

"Come on, John, we need to be going," and we leave together to
catch our bus.

On the bus, the same girls crowd round June and I watch them
chatter, spout their little-girl nonsense, while I look at my
sister, knowing that she's a woman in every respect. While she
listens to their inane ramblings, she looks at me with that
expression of love that she has for me. Unseen by the chattering
magpies that surround us, she holds my hand and squeezes it. I
love her so much it hurts.

Once at school, she kisses me as usual but she hugs me, pulling
me to her and her lips stay longer against mine than is decent
for siblings. Before we part and go our separate ways, she says,
"I want to talk to you at lunch-time," and I nod, knowing full
well that we have important things that need to be spoken of. "I
love you," I say and she replies softly, "I love you too," and
she turns to go.

Lunch-time arrives and we meet in the school restaurant. She buys
a couple of sandwiches and a big Coke for us and we depart before
her friends come around to disturb us. She takes us to a place
beyond the sports ground, and behind some bushes where nobody can
see us. After deciding who wants the cheese and tomato sandwich,
we eat and drink, and we indulge in small talk about classes and
teachers.

The time has come, the food is eaten, and we have to get to what
matters. I blurt out, "Why is Dad making you do sex things?" and
I'm feeling angry.

"What makes you think that he MAKES me do things, love?" she
answers coolly.

"Well surely he's forcing you to..." I bluster but she puts her
finger to my lips again to silence me.

"Let me tell you what happened. You remember when Mum went, don't
you?" and I nod. "Daddy was devastated. You remember the crying
and the drinking?" I nod again. "I couldn't bear to hear him
sobbing in his room so I went in to try and make him better. I
was only 8 so I don't know what I thought I could do. Anyway, I
put my arm around him and cuddled him, lay down next to him and
stroked his hair. He looked up at me with tears in his eyes and
he said, 'She's gone, June, she's left us.' Then I started crying
too and he comforted me, hugged me and said, 'Don't cry, little
one, Daddy'll make it better,' and he did. We held each other for
a long time till we'd finished crying and then he asked if I'd
stay with him that night. So I got into his bed and we cuddled
each other until we fell asleep."

"But what did he...?" I blurt out and she silences me again.

"I slept in his bed every night after that and we comforted each
other. It felt so right, so natural. He'd put his arm around me
and sleep, and I loved him next to me, loved to smell him.
Sometimes we'd kiss before we went to sleep and I'd smell the
whiskey on his breath but I'd cuddle him just the same. He was
Daddy and I loved him."

I look at her for a moment, realising she has a quality I haven't
recognised in her before now. She is kind, considerate and
caring. I had heard Daddy too, sobbing in the night, but I hadn't
gone to him, hadn't thought to help him and in that, I came face
to face with my shortcomings. How selfish I was.

She continued, "After a few months, he started to get better but
I just carried on sleeping with him. He didn't tell me to go and
I didn't really want to. It wasn't until I was nearly eleven that
we started doing things in bed. It started in the usual way, we'd
kiss and then go to sleep, but then he called Mum's name in his
sleep and his hand moved down to between my legs. He started to
feel me up over my knickers and then he put his hand inside,
touching my little slit. It felt so nice when he did that so I
didn't want to wake him to make him stop. I pulled my knickers
down to make it easier for him and he played with me until I got
my 'nice' feeling. I kissed him then but he never woke up."

God, she's making me hard. I keep my mouth shut this time,
waiting for her to go on.

"It would happen every few weeks. We'd go to bed together as
usual and he'd talk in his sleep again. He started saying things
like, 'Suck it, Marie. Please.' But I didn't know what that meant
so I just lay there. Then his hand would come over and he'd play
with me again but I liked it so much that I didn't want to stop
him. I'd pull my knickers down again and put some spit in my
slit, hoping he'd find it with his fingers. He'd find it and try
to put his finger inside my little hole. When he couldn't, he'd
stroke me until I got my 'nice' feeling. He didn't know what he
was doing and I didn't want to tell him the following morning in
case he wouldn't let me sleep with him any more. I suppose I
should have told him the next day what he'd done but I was scared
for him. He was better and that was all that mattered."

I take her hand and squeeze it, and she smiles at me, and it's
not a sorrowful smile.