“Eww, Mom, that’s gross!” Rheta said.
“You think I’m hot?” I asked at the same time as Rheta’s complaint.
Mom just reached out and grabbed my hand. “You’re very handsome Henry; truthfully I’m not sure why you don’t have more dates. Your looks, intelligence, humour and maturity should have the girls flocking to you.” The look in her eyes as she told me this made me positive that she was including herself in that statement.
“Thanks, Mom,” I said after a moment, unsure of what I was supposed to say to that, before settling with gratitude.
“Ok, that’s just wrong,” Rheta said, ruining the moment. “You two shouldn’t be making goo-goo eyes at each other like that; you’re related for crying out loud!”
Looking to my sister, I felt emboldened by the fact that I knew she lusted after me just as much as she claimed to be disgusted by seeing Mom and me be intimate for a moment. “Loving someone and telling them that they have everything to make others love them isn’t wrong, it’s an expression of that love. And we weren’t making goo-goo eyes, we were simply allowing the love we have for one another to simply continue the conversation non-verbally. Here, let me show you,” I said as I leveled Rheta with a gaze full of my wanting and love for her.
As I stared my sister down, daring her silently to turn away, I saw her cheeks flush. She knew that I was telling her that I wanted to fuck her with this look. And then, surprisingly, she gave the same look back to me. Smiling, I reached out my hand and took hers in mine and gave a gentle but strong squeeze. Rheta’s eyes widened before seeming to gloss over as she turned her head to look at her hand suddenly. But the movement seemed too jerky; had I just made her have a mini-orgasm?
“See,” I said when she finally looked back up to me, “nothing but the love we have for each other, sister dear.” Turning back to my dinner and taking a bite, I continued through my half-filled mouth. “So, movie date with me and Mom Friday night?”
“Yes,” she said in a sort of awed whisper, like she was saying more to just Friday night.
“Excellent,” Mom said, bringing my attention back to her. “Now that that’s settled, about actual Christmas.” From there the conversation was a normal family conversation. No hidden agendas or desires, just discussing what we wanted to do for the holidays and wishful thinking about presents.
After dinner, I went back upstairs and forced myself to do some homework. Now that all the pieces were in place, I had to do my part and prepare. By not jerking off for the next two days. Considering how excited I was about Friday night, that was a tall order. Thankfully, my homework was challenging enough to keep me occupied for the night and I fell asleep fairly early (compared to usual) at 10:45.
When I woke the next morning, I again had to force myself not to rub one out. My morning wood was just begging for attention and I had to picture a gay orgy of guys in their 80s to finally settle down enough. But all that effort was for naught when I came downstairs and saw Mom in her silk kimono that only came down to the middle of her thigh. She was alone, standing at the sink as she looked out the window to the backyard, and she was visibly vibrating.
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