OVERNIGHT HANGOUT 😘 3

OVERNIGHT HANGOUT🔞

EPISODE 3

LIKE AND COMMENT

For the first few months after that night in her bed, Stephanie and I went to bed together every chance we got. It was almost like a honeymoon, except we had to plan every liaison in advance, and keep anyone from finding out, which if anything, only added to the excitement. My parents thought it was great that my aunt Stephanie and I got on so well together, little knowing that we were screwing each other senseless, practically under their noses, but I wasn’t so sure about my sister, Casey.

Early in the piece, not long after Stephanie and I started our affair, Stef was due over for dinner one night, and Casey walked into the family room where I was watching TV, and said, casually, “I hear your girlfriend’s coming over tonight.”

“What girlfriend?” I asked, flatly.

“Stephanie,” Casey replied, “I’ve seen you. You can’t keep your eyes off her.”

I’d had an acute attack of butterflies in the stomach when she had said Stef’s name, wondering what she knew, or even suspected, but now I realised that Casey must have thought I had some sort of crush on Stephanie, so I breathed easy. I could cope with Casey thinking I had the hots for my sexy young aunt, as long as she didn’t know what I was doing about it.

Then, a few weeks later, as I lay on my bed, listening to a CD in my room, Casey stuck her head in the door, and said, “Glen and Stephanie, sitting in a tree, kay, eye, ess, ess, eye, enn, gee.”

“You know,” I said, looking at her in the doorway, “there are professionals who can help you. Just reach out.”

“You’re the one who needs professional help,” Casey smiled, “going all gooey over your own aunty.” She turned on her heels and walked away, but what she had said to me kind of confirmed that she only thought I had a crush on Stephanie, which was a bit of a relief.

Another time, when Stephanie started seeing a guy she met at work, Casey had found me in the family room, and said, with mock sympathy, “Poor Glen, his girlfriend’s found a new man. What will he do now?” Little did she know that Stephanie had actually cheated on her new man with me the previous night, but I simply said to Casey, “Is your brain still under warranty? You need to get it looked at.”

Over the next couple of years, Stephanie and I developed a funny kind of relationship. I started seeing girls, and she had a couple of flings with other guys, but between times, when neither of us had anyone else in our lives, we would get together for some good, old-fashioned, casual sex, on a regular basis. We didn’t just screw all the time, in fact sometimes we would just hang out together, watching TV at her place, or going to bars for a beer or two after I turned eighteen, and stuff like that, without laying a hand on each other, and other times, we would go to bed just for the fun of it.

Four years went by, and in that time, a lot of things happened. I finished school, and got a job in a different bank from the one where Stephanie worked, but she helped me get the job by putting in a good word for me with some of her contacts around town. I had a few girlfriends over the years, but nothing really serious, and I have to say that Stephanie’s tutoring in the arts of lovemaking had certainly helped me out a lot in that department.

I was now twenty-one years old, and still living at my parents house, and Stephanie was thirty-five and still single, but still with the face and body of a girl in her twenties. However, the biggest thing that had happened in those four years was that my sister, Casey, had grown up. Casey had been a skinny twelve-year old, back when Stephanie had moved back to town, but when she was fourteen, she started developing those trademark curves that seem to run among the women in my mother’s family. By the time Casey was sixteen, she looked like a younger and slightly smaller version of Stephanie, except with our dad’s eyes, and with fairer skin, and ash blonde hair, where Stephanie’s hair was light brown. She had the same curvy figure as Stephanie, on a smaller scale, with the same full-shaped breasts, that were not large, but just rounded and well-shaped, and a pair of shapely legs that were getting better all the time.

Casey had stayed with her baton-twirling club over the years, and now that she was sixteen, she was a senior. This was good news, because, when she brought her team mates home to practice their routines, she was bringing home girls aged from sixteen to nineteen, so it seemed like there were always sexy little teenage baton-twirlers prancing around the place on weekends, in their practice leotards and shimmer tights, or skimpy little skirts and shorts, going through their routines, or exercising to keep themselves in shape for their training. My parents were charging me less in board than I would have paid to rent a place of my own, but why would I want to leave anyway, with all of this going on? Like I said, a lot of things had happened in the past four years.

Another interesting thing had happened that first summer when Casey turned sixteen. Her best friend was Rowena, a fellow baton twirler, and Casey and Rowena had gone to the public swimming pool one Saturday afternoon, and they both came back with a very mild case of sunburn. They put a towel on the family room floor, and took turns at lying on the towel, while one gently rubbed Vitamin E cream all over the other’s back, shoulders and legs. Casey had a pair of denim shorts over her bikini bottom, and Rowena, dark-haired, olive-skinned, and part-Italian, was wearing a black skirt over hers, but they only had their bikini bras on top, and it was quite exciting to watch them on the floor, gently rubbing each other all over with cream. In fact, by the time the show was over, I had become quite horny, and it seemed odd that they had decided do it in the family room, where I was, instead of Casey’s bedroom, even though they were really only rubbing cream on each other.

After the two girls finished, they got up and went to Casey’s room for a while, closing the door behind them. I sat there for a while, wishing they’d asked me...