CREEPER PASS: A CURE FOR DEPRESSION
Josie opened her eyes a crack and looked her naked body over in the mirror.
The sight made her wince.
Her body had changed so much over the last few years. Where there were once sharp lines and flat plains there were now generous curves and heavy mounds that fought to escape every item of clothing she tried to squash herself into.
She knew her breasts were too heavy and her chunky ass stuck out too far. Her little pout of a tummy bothered her the most though. She tried to suck it in, but she could still see the subtle ring of plumpness that had developed around her navel. Every time she looked at her body she could practically see her mother's face in the mirror behind her, distorted by revulsion at what her daughter had let herself become.
Her supposed friends were no better. She had overheard them enough times to know they reveled in her sudden weight gain and how all the boys' attention was supposedly drifting elsewhere. It seemed Josie could not escape judgment, least of all when she stayed at home, where her mother controlled her dinner portions and made snide comments if she saw Josie eating so much as a rice cake.
What annoyed Josie the most was that she wasn't even fat. Not really. She just wasn't the stick insect she used to be. In her late teenage years hormones had wracked her body, giving her a generous helping of tits and ass as well as other curves she had not asked for. It wasn't like she ate more or exercised less.
It was her parents her gave her these genes. Josie's only crime, as she could see it, was that she refused to live like her ascetic monk of a mother.
The only person she had left in her life, who had made her feel she had any kind of self-worth, was Clark.
But then, they had taken him away too.
She had a plan to get him back though. It was a bold plan and, for Josie especially, it was absolutely terrifying to contemplate.
Not sure her courage would hold for much longer, Josie pulled on her underwear. Her mother had thrown out her old bras and panties and had replaced them with body constricting shape-wear. She covered these with a baggy sweater and jeans. Then she picked up the envelope on her desk and walked out into the hallway.
Clark's room was just two doors down, past their shared bathroom. When she reached it she paused and peeked through the gap he had left in the doorway.
Clark was just sitting on his bed. His expression was the same vacant one he had worn since he had returned from the hospital last month.
Their mother and father really should have been here, sitting with him, talking to him, but they were cowards. Dad never left work anymore and their mother always had some social engagement or pilates class to get to. For each of them there was always a reason, anything to help them escape dealing with their fat daughter or their broken son.
Looking at him now, Josie was struck with a stabbing pain. She was at least partly to blame for the miserable state he was in, and it was up to her to get him out of it.
She knocked on Clark's door, but he gave no indication that he heard her, he simply stared ahead at the blank wall.
She came closer, but still he did not look up. Only a few months previously his eyes would have been burning her skin with their intensity. Something flipped over in her stomach at that memory.
Her hands shook as she held out the envelope.
They steadied somewhat when she looked down into his dull eyes. The fire that had burned within them had been snuffed out and now there appeared to be no sentience left capable of shaming her for what she was about to do. It made it easier, but it also caused a painful constricting in her gut to flare up.
What if she was too late?
When he failed to take the envelope she hesitated, then thrust it forward and let it fall to where his thighs were pressed together. She spun and walked briskly out the room before she could change her mind.
Clark was all she had left in the world, and she was willing to risk everything to get him back.
After she had departed, Clark simply continued to stare at the wall as if Josie had never come into his room.
It was mostly by accident he found the envelope. When his hand moved on his leg he heard the crinkle of paper and looked down, a glimmer of curiosity flashing through the dense fug surrounding his mind.
Clark picked the white rectangle up and slowly turned it over in his numbed fingers. Somewhere, very far away in his mind, he noted a small wet circle near one corner of the paper, which had turned it transparent.
Had his sister been crying when she gave this to him?
It was hard for him to tell. Not so long ago his keen observance would have picked up on every nuance of emotion that passed over his Josie's lovely face. But now he lived with a warm, drowsy blanket wrapped around his mind, which made difficult for him to focus on anything.
The drugs they had given him were supposedly a life raft. But, after they had bundled him into it they had then cast him loose and left him to float free on the warm tropical ocean where time never seemed to pass and memories just melted away.
They had been right about one thing, he did not feel so sad any more. But then, he did not feel anything anymore.
It took him a long time to open the letter. He would have probably just ignored it and continued to stare at the wall, but he dimly remembered something strange in the way Josie had been acting. Had she been distressed? Embarrassed?
She was constantly concerned for him; she seemed to be the only one.
He briefly wondered why Josie was still home. Hadn't the colleges all gone back now? He would have puzzled it out more, but the thought slipped away from him. It was just another distant concern and, when things were seen from the extremely distant perspective he now had, it was hard to believe they were real.
Finally, as if he were moving through thick molasses, Clark lifted the flap of the envelope. It was not stuck down and now it pointed at him, just another finger of accusation.
He dragged the letter out and flattened it carefully against his knee. He stared at the words. He recognized that they were in Josie's looping handwriting, but discerning their meaning was like trying to focus on something underwater.
Eventually, the words seemed to snag a loose edge of his attention. As they settled into a rough arrangement that he could just about make meaning of, he was surprised to find that his tissue-thin focus was actually holding together. It had been a very long time since that had happened.
Dear little brother,
First of all, I am writing to you to apologize. I know I had some part in what pushed you over the edge and for that I will never forgive myself.
I did not understand for a long time. I saw you the way they all did, as some kind of perv or freak. I used to hate the way you lurked around me, always watching, always staring. It made me feel naked before you. But I am beginning to realize that those were my own insecurities. There was never any malice behind what you did. You just watched.
I know you always had a special place for me, and I used to resent you following me wherever I went. I remember shouting at you when you tried to peek into the bathroom when I was showering or stared down my cleavage. These were not things little brothers were supposed to do.
Now I would do anything to have you return, doing those things again, if only it would bring the rest of you back with it. In fact, seeing I am being honest, I kind of miss having your eyes on me. At least when you looked at me I felt like I existed. I could even pretend to myself that I might still be beautiful, at least in someone's eyes.
That, for me, is what we all failed to see in our ignorance. They might call you a voyeur or peeping Tom, but you are much more than that. I have to admit here that I snooped in your room while you were in rehab, looking for answers as to why you did what you did. It was there that I found your sketch pads and went through them. I cannot tell you how captivated I was by your drawings. You capture things in ways I could never see.
What we failed to notice was that you see beauty everywhere, beauty that we all walk by and ignore every day. Not only that, but you are able to somehow capture that moment. Perhaps if we saw the world the way you did we would also take more time to stop and stare. Maybe we are the freaks and you are the one who sees the world as the beautiful place it really is.
Perhaps if I had known that then I would not have been so thoughtless and cruel towards you as the rest of them.
I am not sure if it was our lack of understanding or the persecution you suffered that finally drove you to try and take your own life. All I know is that it nearly broke me. I think, for the first time I was finally able to admit just how much you meant to me.
They said that they saved you, that you responded to the treatment and the antidepressants. They said you can now live a happy, normal life but, all I see is that the person they brought back from the psych ward is not my little brother anymore. He is the empty husk of what used to be there.
I miss him so much and I want him back. Whatever differences we had, we were a team. You were the only one who stood up for me when mom's words grew too hurtful. The only one to watch over me and make me feel like one person in this world gave a damn.
So, I have come up with a plan. A desperate one, but then I find that I am desperate. I have been reading up on your condition? Proclivities? I am not sure what to call it. Suffice to say, you are not alone, there is a surprisingly large community out there and I followed several forums while looking for advice on how to reach you.
One idea stood out above all the others. They call it a "Creeper Pass."
It works like this: A Creeper Pass can be gifted to anyone like you by someone who loves and understands them. It grants the holder a 24 hour period of unrestricted, non-judgemental voyeurism. You can read the rules below, but I want to offer that to you as my gift. My last hope of bringing you back to me.
The whole brother-sister thing is difficult for me to wrap my mind around, but I figure that for one day I can put my prejudices aside and let you be who you need to be. If it can bring you back even a little bit then it will be worth any sacrifice to me.
So, starting from 7 am tomorrow morning, the rules of the Creeper Pass will be implemented. Mom and dad will be out the house and, while that is to be expected, I have double checked to make sure. You will also notice that I have not stopped by to give you your meds today. I am hoping that, free from its effects you can better decide what to do with this gift.
Yours, with love,
Jo
As Clark puzzled over this very strange letter a slip of printed paper fell onto the floor. For a wonder, he found his overpowering apathy had dimmed enough that he could reach down and pick it up. The paper had printed writing on it and looked like a voucher of some kind. The only part of it that had Josie's handwriting on it was where his and her names were spelled out on lines printed there for the purpose, as well as her signature at the bottom.
It read:
CREEPER PASS
This pass entitles the bearer, Clark Mclaghan, to 24 hours of unrestricted creeping upon the giver, Josie Mclaghan.
The rules for this period are as follows:
No door may be closed to the bearer, nor may he be asked to leave a room in which the giver is present.
The bearer has the right to shift, lift, open or remove any item of clothing he wishes unless specifically told otherwise by the giver.
The bearer is entitled to remove any items of his own clothing in the presence of the giver.
Unless given permission, the bearer may not touch the giver. He may, however, touch himself without fear of recrimination.
Unless given permission, the bearer may not take pictures or video of the giver under any conditions.
Any mess that may result as a consequence of the bearer's actions is the bearer's responsibility to tidy up.
Clark had no concept of how long he stared at that singular piece of paper. The meaning of these words, so unexpected, so utterly outside of anything he could have dreamed of, burned through his mental fog like the first rays of sunlight.
Could it really be true?
He read the letter and the words on the Creeper Pass over and over again, late into the night. Each time he did so he expected to find out that he had misread or misunderstood them in some way. But each time it proved to be true a small shift happened deep inside of him. It was opening up small cracks in the ice encasing his soul and slowly, very slowly a small trickle of warmth was starting to melt through.
The next morning, Josie stirred from her slumber, unwilling to leave the warm embrace of sleep. She had had a fitful night. A loop of questions had run in her brain without letup: Would her letter work? Was she disgusting for even considering it as an option? Why did her body react to the thought of those unflinching eyes of his burning over her skin? Why did even the thought of it seem to light a flame somewhere deep in her belly?
She must have fallen asleep at some point because, as she rose to the surface of consciousness, she became aware of the presence in the room that had woken her. Even without opening her eyes she felt a quickening of her pulse. He looming figure she sensed, rather than being ominous, gave her comfort. She had missed being in the protection of that shadow.
Eyes still closed, she rolled onto her back and stretched. Her muscles pulled at her joints exquisitely and her tight tank top grew even tighter across her stomach and chest, the fabric rubbing on her tender nipples.
She let a sliver of light painfully stab through a narrow slit in her eyelids. As her pupils adjusted the figure beside her bed came more and more into focus.
She did not need to see him to know it had worked, the first part anyway. Where it would go from here was anyone's guess. But she had done enough to get him out of his room, which was no small achievement.
She could actually feel the heat of his gaze on her like morning sunlight through the curtains. Her own gaze was fixed on the first thing that filled her line of sight: Clark's tartan sleeping shorts, which had a very prominent bulge in their centre.
Those adverse effects of the medication, at least, seemed to have worn off in the night
With a smile and a small sigh, she folded herself back in after her luxuriant stretch. Squinting up at his face, she could see his eyes were focused intently on her chest. She looked down and felt a shock that turned to a pleasant tingle throughout her body.
In her stretch, her breasts had nearly pulled free of her top. As it was, a small arc of dark pink areola was peeking out from under the turquoise fabric. Her nipples too had rapidly hardened into little peaks under the top, pushing the material up, and her brother was lapping up the sight.
When he finally realized she was watching him watch her, Clark flushed and took a step back.
Seeing he was about to bolt she spoke up in a voice still croaky from sleep, "Wait, don't go. I... You're... You're out of your room?" She hadn't intended it to sound like a question.
Clark nodded and averted his eyes sheepishly. His hand had fallen to cover his crotch.
"You read my letter?"
Clark nodded again, slower this time.
"Okay then," She fortified herself, "Then you know about the Pass? You know you don't have to feel ashamed about this," She gestured between the two of them, "About any of this. Not today, and never in front of me. I'm giving you complete amnesty, so long as you obey the rules."
As he hesitated at the edge of her bed, Josie added, "I am so happy to see you, Clark. The real you, I mean. I missed you so much. Please don't go back. Just go with it, okay? It's not like you have anything to lose. I really am okay with all of this."
Her voice came out so steady even she almost believed herself.
Clark hesitated a moment longer, his eyes darted around the room as he considered his options. She knew he had come to a resolution when those same eyes locked onto hers and he took a half-step forward. Something was stirring deep in their lifeless depths.
She had the strange sensation of feeling herself relax, while an opposing tension built up in her stomach muscles.
Clark did a long, slow pan over her body, still half under the duvet and laid out on the bed before him. When he saw her looking at his hard cock he made to cover it again, but she put a hand out to stop him.
"No," She said soothingly, "It's okay. I don't mind. This is my gift to you. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable any more."
Seeming to gain some confidence he looked at her breasts, fighting the constraints of her too small tank top, and licked his lips. Josie felt a rush of excitement. Maybe his inner creep was reawakening. Maybe she would bring him back yet.
Knowing he would probably never build up the courage to take the next step, Josie took in a deep breath. She felt a little light-headed about what she was about to do. But, knowing it had to be done, she moved quickly, pinched the spaghetti strap of her top and, in a smooth motion, she pulled it down and to the side.
Josie felt certain that they were both equally shocked when her enormous naked breast spilled free. Clark hissed and clenched his fists tight as if to stop himself from diving forward.
Lying on her back, as she was, the large mass had flattened and partially slid to the side of her ribcage. She felt the burning heat of his gaze on her stretched, dimpled areola. She watched with him as the nipple in its center visibly swelled and stood to attention. In her peripheral vision, she caught the movement of the caged beast in his sleeping shorts mirroring the action.
Unconsciously he rubbed his thumb on his belly, his excitement clear.
Josie rolled to her side slightly and arched her back, making her one bare breast stand up proud. She sighed and, eyeing the tenting in his pants she said, "You have the Creeper Pass, Clark. You can touch yourself if you want."
Clark looked down at the shaft straining at the material. She could see the internal battle he fought in his expressions. It was a battle he lost, apparently, because the next thing she knew Clark was using the flat of one hand to drag his cock up so that it was between his waistband and his stomach. After he had slid his hand to the top he did not stop, but let his hand slide down and repeated the action over and over.
Josie fought the smile that, surprisingly, wanted to bubble out of her and returned to laying flat on her back.
While Clark stroked himself he grew bolder. This time it was he who reached out a hand, still trembling a little and let the fingers rest on her other strap. When Josie gave no indication that he should stop, he hooked a finger under it and tugged it down while Josie lifted her shoulders to assist him.
She felt an unexpected rush of giddiness as her second bosom was revealed. When her body shivered the twin mounds sloshed gently around on her chest.
Clark had wrapped his hand around his cock through the fabric of his pajama pants. Josie could see a growing wet spot where the tip of his cock was leaking through the material.
A liquid heat had begun to pool in her belly as she lay unmoving and watched her brother fondle himself. Whatever energy he was drawing from her to recover his old self, it was leaving a strong residue behind inside her.
For a long while they just watched each other. Clark stared at her naked tits, occasionally glancing up at her face as if to confirm this was still really happening, and Josie stared at Clark's clothed manhood. She found herself wondering what it looked like underneath.She was surprised when she heard a voice command, "Take it out." It was even more surprising when she realized it was her own voice.
Clark gave her an unreadable look, before responding to the order like a trained soldier. He immediately started tugging down the waistband of his pants. His cock caught and was pulled downwards with the garment. Josie saw the dark patch of hair, his column of a shaft and his dangling balls before she glimpsed the head of his cock. When it was finally freed it exploded out of its confines like it was spring loaded and bobbed up and down in front of her. Even as she watched he flexed an internal muscle and it was as if an invisible hand had caught Clark's shaft and stabilized it. The monstrous thing lowered itself slowly to point at Josie, weighed down as it was by its bulbous head.
Josie took in its impressive length and girth. The tip glistened with a sticky wetness from where it had been smeared against his pants. She found herself wondering if she could fit her hand all the way around the fat crown of it.
The seductress was a role Josie would never ordinarily have seen herself in, especially with her body issues. But she found herself growing into it, as if it were a character she could comfortably play. Only, she was starting to wonder where the character ended and the true Josie began. She found herself lifting her hips up teasingly, catching Clark's eye. He looked down at the duvet that covered her to the waist and then reached out a hand and tossed it off to the side.
Josie looked down between her breasts and over the gentle convex of her belly to the tight, cut-off boxer shorts she wore to bed. She began to swivel her hips enticingly.
Courage seemed to fill Clark, as he gripped his naked cock in one hand and bent over to tug at the hem of Josie's shorts with the other. One side slid down, revealing a trimmed patch of pubic hair. As Clark reached over it he let his hand hover just inches above it. Josie could see the slight tremble in his fingers as he contemplated stroking the silky patch of hair. But, remembering the rules, He leaned over and began to tug at the other hem.
It was shocking how easy this all was. How the wrongness of it all just faded away in Clark's obvious enjoyment of her body. It had seemed an impossibility before, but it amounted to almost no effort for Josie to lift her bottom and let her brother slide her little shorts over her generous hips down to mid-thigh.
Clark stared down, unblinking, his sister was suddenly, stunningly bared before him. He could not look away from her newly exposed pussy. The chubby swollen lips of it made it impossible to see deeper into the delicate cleft, but it was more than enough for Clark.
As he scrutinized her sex, Josie felt her cheeks grow hot, but she made no move to cover herself. She would stay true to the promise she had made to Clark.
He leaned down, putting one hand down on the bed almost close enough the touch Josie's skin, and then he allowed his eyes to sweep over her naked body. He seemed to be taking in every perfect curve.
While he looked he began to suck in deep lungfuls of her scent, while his hand began to pump rhythmically on his cock.
Josie felt a strange tingle run up her spine and then spread across her whole body. She had never been observed so closely before, had never been so obviously objectified and yet appreciated for who she was.
She whimpered softly as Clark leaned in even closer and took in a deep inhalation just inches above her pussy, drawing her scent into him.
He was already so close, she could see the muscles chording in his neck, and the quick convulsions that came from his hips as he jerked himself off while leaning over her.
When he turned his pleading eyes up to her face, Josie responded by sitting up just enough to cross her arms and pull her top over her head. She then lay down again, before using her back and hips to scoot herself closer to the edge of the bed. She positioned herself with her chest just under his painfully swollen cock head.
He glanced up briefly to give her a questioning look.
Could she really be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting?
Josie considered carefully what she said next. It was crazy, but her revved up body was telling her it really wasn't that bad. It wasn't like they were actually committing incest, and it would be easier to clean up this way, rather than if he finished on her bedspread.
Besides, her breasts prickled with a need to feel his hot seed affirming their perfection.
"Do it," She said through clenched teeth, "Come on me."
Clark was grunting now as his fist choked down on his length. He realized that it was probably too late to do it any other way, regardless.
A single, heavy drop of pre-come spilled out of his tip and splashed down on her left breast. It left behind a gossamer thread that connected his body to hers. Like a grounding wire, it sent a jolt through her and up to him.
Clark was breathing in fast, hissing in breaths as his climax overtook him.
The hand that bore his weight balled up the sheet as his hips thrust forward, forcing his rod through the tight fist he had made with his other hand. He held himself there a moment, the skin of his cock pulled back painfully tight, and then he groaned loudly and began to shudder.
Then, thick, sticky come poured out of his cock in spasmodic jets, spattering Josie's substantial tits. They quivered with the force of each blast as it landed.
She lifted her chest up to glory in the appreciation he was showing her body. The white streaks clung to her skin, wobbling in time with her heaving breaths. Though she had not touched herself or really moved in any way, she felt electrified and breathless, as if what her brother had experienced had somehow been, at least partially, transferred into her. It was the first time she had felt so desired in a very long time.
Admiring the mess Clark had made of her chest she let the tip of her tongue slip between her lips before she sucked them in and bit down on them. It felt so wicked and dirty and yet completely enlivening.
Her little brother had just come on her tits.
Clark, in the meantime, had come out of his stupor and was looking down at what he had wrought on his sister. Josie saw the shame and uncertainty bloom russet on his cheeks, as his mouth hung open slightly.
"Don't worry so much, Clark," She soothed, "No consequences, remember? Just don't forget the rules and all will be fine. Speaking of which, I think you had better help me clean up this mess."
He glanced down sheepishly at her come-smeared chest as she gingerly rose from the bed, trying to use her hands to catch his seed as it threatened to drip off her and stain her bedspread and carpet. That might be a difficult stain to explain to their mother. She took the hand he proffered to help her up and then it was she who took the lead, pulling him along into their shared bathroom.
Clark stared at her naked backside, she had not bothered to pull up her shorts and had to waddle slightly to make the short walk out her bedroom and over to the bathroom door.
Once she was inside she looked back over her shoulder and asked, "Will you take those off for me?" Indicating her shorts with a nod.
Clark knelt reverently and paused, his face inches from her broad, rounded backside. Then he dug his fingers into her shorts and pulled them down. After the first few inches of solid thigh they slipped down easily to the floor.
"Thanks," Josie said, stepping out of them and into the shower. There was a hiss as she turned on the water and then began to adjust the temperature.
She had left the door to the shower wide open.
She looked back at him, a knowing smirk touching her lips and said, "You gonna join me? You won't see much from back there. Besides, you have a mess to clean up."
Nearly tripping over himself, Clark stripped out of his pajamas in an instant and stepped, bare as she was, into the shower stall, now filling with hot steam. Josie was already under the cascade of hot water. Clark appreciated how the water ran down her, conforming to her curves and running off her ample protrusions in sheets.
When he caught her looking at his semi-hard dick she gave only a small shrug and then handed him a facecloth and a bar of soap. Then she proudly pushed out her chest and said, "Well, you had better clean me up."
Clark nodded, transfixed again her magnificent breasts. They had looked incredible, spread out as she laid back on the bed, but when she stood up they were even more impressive. They were perfect teardrops which carried most of their dense weight near their curved undersides. Her wide, sensitive-looking nipples were positioned just below center. Though she had been under the jets of water there were still remnants of his seed stubbornly clinging to her skin.
Carefully he first wet and then soaped up the face cloth. Then he held it out to her. He had not even reached her before she stepped into it, guiding her breast into his cloth covered hand.
He rubbed the cloth over her, its texture felt rough against her smooth skin. As he pressed it against her firm breast he pinched down with his thumb and fingers around her nipple and tugged the mass of it towards him. He could not hear her over the sound of the shower, but he saw her eyelids flicker and her lips part to let out a sound.
With painstaking care be proceeded to cleanse her tits of any trace of him. Long after he was sure he was done, he continued to caress her, washing around and between each breast, even lifting them to get under them, into the crease between each one and her chest.
She stood mostly still throughout, only moving to turn slightly this way and that, to give him better access to her body.
Long before he was done his hard-on had fully returned.
"My turn," Josie said. Clark was not sure what she meant until she opened a bottle of shampoo and poured viscous white fluid into her hand.
He let her turn him and massage the shampoo into his scalp. It was the first time Clark had been properly cleaned in a long time. She washed out the shampoo, removing the greasy layer that had been developing with neglect. She proceeded to rub him down with soap, a process which she repeated three times, until his skin shone with a new, healthy sheen.
She left only his manhood untouched, much to Clark's disappointment. Instead, she handed him the cloth and left him in no doubt as to what he should clean next. As he attended to it with the soapy cloth, with a very naked Josie standing just in front of him, he found he was being a bit more emphatic with his cleansing action than was strictly necessary. It might have even ended up with a successive climax, if Josie had not abruptly shut off the water.
Grinning cruelly, she moved towards Clark, letting his cock brush against her warm, wet thigh as she passed him by.
If he hadn't known she was teasing him before, he surely did when she looked back over her shoulder, into his stunned face and gave him a quick wink. She then picked up her towel and dried herself off. To his surprise, when she was dry, she returned the towel to the rack and took up only a small hand towel.
He groaned softly to himself as she stooped over and wrapped the towel around her head. Her enviable booty stuck out tantalizingly before him and he fought the urge to reach out and grab it.
Then, with only her head covered she walked, still pink and glistening with condensation back into her room.
He took up her damp towel and used it to dry and then awkwardly cover himself. He lingered in the doorway to her bedroom and watched as she dressed. It didn't take her long. She only put on a black, mid-thigh length skirt and a thin, white cotton top with a deep cleavage. They were her old clothes and did not really fit her much more developed frame anymore. The skirt looked like it was painted onto her backside and the buttons of the shirt seemed to be taking strain.
He couldn't remember the last time he had seen her in anything other than the baggy sweatshirt and jeans, of the sort she had worn last night. It was thrilling to see her being brave in her choices again.
Josie looked up after she was done and, from the awed expression on his face, she could tell he had not missed what she had neglected in her dressing routine. The uncomfortable shapewear had stayed in its drawer and Josie felt unrestricted and shame-free for the first time in a very long time.
"You know," she said as she sat in from of her vanity and talked to his reflection, "I think I am going to put on a little makeup for a change. You are welcome to watch, but I suggest you go put on some clothes. I'll meet you downstairs and make you some breakfast."
He nodded dumbly and then hesitated, scared that if he left the room it might end this dream. But, just the hope that there might still be more to come was enough to spur him back to his room and back into his clothes.
It took him awhile to get dressed, he suddenly found he wanted to look good for Josie. His pajamas, which he had barely taken off all month, he tossed into the clothes hamper.
When he came downstairs, Clark found Josie pottering around the kitchen. Looking at her, humming to herself while she carried on with a normal routine he had trouble aligning what he saw now with what had occurred just minutes ago upstairs.
He was quickly reminded again, however, when she reached up to a high shelf and her skirt lifted with her, revealing a generous curved section of her naked ass.
It felt like there was a hook through his navel and someone was tugging madly on the line connected to it.
Seeing where his gaze landed Josie giggled playfully and turned, asking, "Are you happy with bacon and eggs for breakfast?" The makeup she had applied was subtle, but it emphasized her beauty and seemed to give her even more confidence.
Clark nodded, staring at the ghostly tinge of darkened areola just visible through her thin shirt. His sister was so fucking sexy it hurt him to look at her.
She shook her head, surprised even in herself at the effect she was having on Clark.
She drew on an apron and proceeded to start cooking breakfast for the two of them. She had just finished off frying the bacon and was starting on the eggs when Clark realized he could take no more of watching the swish and sway of her short little skirt as she moved smoothly between tasks.
As if guided along a rail, he loomed up behind her, close enough to breathe on the scent of her still slightly damp hair. She turned her head just enough to spot him through the corner of her eye, before returning to her cooking.
Clark knelt behind her. Again, he gave her plenty of time to stop him, but she carried on with the cooking as if he were not there.
He held his hands out to her, in what could have been taken for a submissive gesture, holding them just inches above her skirt. He refused the urge to sink his fingers into those firm ass cheeks, reminding himself once more of the rules. He waited for a beat to get the implied permission to continue. When Josie remained silent, Clark gripped the hem of her skirt and began to slowly lift it up.
The wide expanse of her chubby white ass was revealed to him, right up to where the two dimples above it started.
He gawked at her, watching as the flesh changed and reformed as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other.
Still, it was not enough for him, and this temporary power he been granted was intoxicating.
He held the bottom frill of the skirt and pulled. Josie tut-tutted, and muttered something about impatient boys, but she did not stop him In fact, she actively obliged him by wiggling her hips to assist. The elastic band stretched to near its full extent as it rolled over her flared hips and bottom, before snapping in about halfway down her thighs.
Together they helped her shimmy free of the garment until she stood bare-assed in the kitchen. Still singing softly to herself and unashamedly frying up breakfast.
Clark stared at her backside, his face only inches away from her skin. Josie's butt was generously formed and tended towards that pear shape Clark found so appealing. Her skin too was flawless in its milky complexion.
She ignored him as he sat on the tiled floor and just stared at her, beginning to knuckle the painful inflammation that had flared up again in his shorts.
He knew she had to be toying with him when she adjusted her stance, moving her feet out just wider than shoulder width apart. Her chunky ass cheeks still hid most of what nestled between her legs, but if she shifted her position even slightly he caught tantalizing glimpses down into that wondrous valley.
Impatient, he dropped forward onto one hand so that he was directly beneath her, and craned his neck around. Josie did not even acknowledge what he was doing other than to maybe shift her feet apart a little more.
Clark was now able to twist his head upwards and stare up at where her front and back clefts met between her thighs. He swore softly to himself when he realized he was able to stare right into the slightly parted lips of her vagina. Whereas before her thick outer lips had kept her inner folds hidden, from this angle he could distinctly make out her just barely protruding labia and even the little folded hood at the top of her cleft where her clit had to reside.
He had no doubt this Creeper Pass was the single greatest gift he had ever been given.
He marveled at the slight glint of moisture he caught when she moved and gave him just the meagerest glimpse between those folds
He ached to bury his face into those pleated layers of flesh and taste her on his tongue. Emboldened by the passivity she has so far displayed, he slowly reached up a hand. Perhaps if he could just brush the soft petals of her sex he could claim it was an accident. If he could do that he might get her wetness on his fingers and he could finally get a real scent of her. Perhaps he could even taste her.
His finger was only millimeters away now, if she dipped even slightly it would slip inside her tiny little entrance. He could feel the heat coming off her like a furnace.
He hesitated and then, just as he realized he would not be able to stop himself breaking the rules, she suddenly took a step back. Clark groaned in disappointment as she stepped over his legs and turned to walk towards the kitchen counter.
He watched the undulation of her beautiful ass cheeks as she walked away. "Grub's up," She called back without turning her head to even glance his way.
A little red in the face, and unwilling to meet her grin, Clark climbed up on the bar stool beside Josie, his massive erection was extremely uncomfortable to maneuver with.
He had to bite his bottom lip when he saw her perfect naked ass was pushed back against the stool she sat on, the top half of it was squashing its way through the hole cut into the back of the stool like rising cake batter. He wanted to fondle it so badly he could have cried.
Instead, he sat with her in silence and ate the breakfast she had cooked him. If his mind had not been filled with thoughts of her naked body, Clark would probably have enjoyed the food. But, as it was, he barely tasted it. Still, it was more than he had eaten in one sitting in weeks and the dull ache he had had in his belly that whole time finally faded.
Josie prattled on, as she used to in more carefree years, as if Clark were holding up his end of the conversation. She seemed oblivious to the fact that she was half naked, with only an apron to cover what little of her modesty she had left.
After they had eaten, she scooped up the plates and loaded them into the dishwasher. Clark tried to help but ended up just trailing after her naked rump like a lost puppy. When everything was tidied away she stopped in front of the stove.
Josie had been feeling more and more powerful as she forced herself to move casually while she was stripped from the waist down. She could see what effect it was having on her brother and it only made her want to push him further.
So, very slowly and deliberately, she bent forward at the waist to pick up her discarded skirt.
Clark nearly fell over backward, he clutched at the kitchen counter to maintain his balance as her ass cheeks opened up like two halves of a juicy apricot that was being pulled apart by strong fingers. The little pink pucker of her asshole practically winked at him, and the thick lips of her pussy peeked out between her thighs as she stepped into the skirt again. Then she stood, pulling the skirt back up and wiggling her big bum to get it over her wide hips.
For all outward appearances ignorant to the emotional contortions she was putting her brother through, Josie sautered out of the kitchen and into the lounge. There she pulled her phone out of its charger and curled up on the couch and began going through her messages as if it were just another typical day at home.
Clark hovered over her. For once he could stare down into her ample cleavage and not worry about her catching him. In fact, as he watched, she absent-mindedly toyed with the top button of her shirt until it popped open, nearly causing her tits to pour out of the wide neckline she had created.
Clark could only watch and wonder what to do next.
Caught up on her messages and social media, Josie dropped the phone on the couch and stood to walk out of the lounge. When Clark remained still, only watching her, she explained, "I have to pee." She managed to make it sound like an invitation. Clark followed.
In the small downstairs bathroom, she opened the door but entirely failed to close it once she was inside. Clark stood in the doorway and watched as she hiked up her skirt, far higher than she probably needed to, and gave him another flash of her silky mat of dark fur.
She sat down on the toilet and, pointedly not looking at Clark, relieved herself with an audible tinkle into the bowl. Watching the act itself was no great fantasy of Clark's, but the intimacy of it and the trust it showed she had in him made it very erotic. His already hard cock pulsed and he longed to pull it out and stroke it in front of her.
When she was done she pulled off a short strip of toilet paper and, lifting her skirt again, she dabbed at her moist sex. Her job done, she lifted each hip in turn and took a long time to inspect her bared vagina, as if she had to be certain she had done a good job. Clark could only stare at the beautiful pussy she flaunted in front of him. He had to fight the urge to walk over to her, pin her down and fuck her right there on the toilet.
This was the most beautiful kind of torture.
When Josie returned to the couch she scooped up the remote and turned on the TV. Still not looking at Clark, she patted the seat beside her and he obediently occupied the indicated spot.
They sat like that for a while, with her intently flicking through the channels, and him staring at her with unwavering focus. It seemed to be doing something to Josie. She shifted in her seat and rolled her shoulders as if there was an itch somewhere she wanted to scratch.
Eventually, finding a movie she did not find too unappealing, she leaned back and tossed the remote onto the couch to her other side.
Together they watched the opening scenes. Josie did, anyway, while Clark was unable to tear his eyes away from where, as she sat, her skirt had ridden up on her creamy white thighs.
The more intensely he stared the more fidgety Josie became. She tugged at the collar of her shirt, as if the room were getting too hot.
The bulge in Clark's shorts was becoming painfully obvious.
She slipped her hand into her lap, as if there was an ache she needed to push down on. Then she shifted, her legs sliding a few more inches apart.
The movement of her skirt and the unveiling of another stretch of bare thigh forced Clark to lean in closer. He craned his neck, trying to peer into the shadow cast by her skirt.
Josie made a small noise in the back of her throat and arched her back slightly. She shifted her legs again and spread them a little more. Clark could now see all the way up to just before they met at her crotch.
His fingers danced in the air just above her skirt, desperate to pull the offending item of clothing up just a little further, but not quite having the courage to do so.
Josie's eyes never left the television, but her fingers began to curl very slowly into the fabric of the skirt. Clark watched in rapt attention as millimeter by millimeter those fingers began to smoothly drag the black fabric up.
Like a morning sunrise, her beautiful cleft was very gradually exposed to his hungry eyes. Seeming to enjoy his gaze, Josie lifted first one leg up, and then the other, letting them fall apart. With her legs folded into a cross-legged position. Clark's sister's inner pussy, normally hidden by thick outer lips, was spread open and revealed to him in all its glistening glory.
Clark growled deep in his throat. He leaned down and stared at her spread sex, just inches from his face.
Her dark-tinged labia had flared open and the delicate, wet tissues of her inner folds were exposed to the cool air. Clark could unabashedly stare at where the top of her cleft began, down to the little nub of her clitoris, which was nestled in a soft mantle of pink flesh.
"Fuck," Clark breathed out. He had never inspected a pussy so closely before, not in real life. Josie's was beautiful with it symmetrical folds and frilled edges which did not quite reach to cover where the sensitive skin sank inward to create her tight little entrance. His mouth watered with the thought of tasting her.
He had to settle for reaching down and unbuttoning his shorts. Even without his Creeper Pass Clark felt fairly certain he would have been powerless to stop himself doing this. The voice of his old, voyeuristic self was calling from somewhere deep in his mind, where it had been locked up for far too long.
When he had his zipper open, he pulled out his fat cock and let it tingle pleasantly in the cool air. He caught just the barest flicker of Josie's eye as she took in his engorged member, before returning to the screen. The only sign that she had noticed what he was doing was the edge of her bottom lip she now held trapped under one of her pointed canine teeth.
Hunching over again to stare deep into her pussy, he began to palm his cock. Josie leaned further back into the sofa and in an almost distracted manner, started to pinch and twist the nipple of her right breast beneath the thin fabric.
Clark had lost complete track of the movie as he inspected his sister's perfect vagina and pumped his cock. He could actually see the little pool of wetness forming in the dip of her entrance. He wanted so badly to touch it.
While he was inspecting her so closely, Clark suddenly realized that Josie had slipped her hand under her shirt and was now massaging her large breast beneath the fabric. Though her face remained impassively focused on the screen ahead Clark suspected she was getting as turned on by this as he was.
She seemed to be fighting a battle with herself. Her free hand lowered to just over her lap and then hovered there, shaking slightly. Clark willed it downward.
She clenched it into a tight fist and tried to lift it up, but Clark, without thinking, blew a stream of cool air into her tingling sex to tease her. It forced a gasp out of her and she opened her mouth and slipped a finger inside it, sucking on it to stifle a moan.
Clark was half standing now, his weight on one knee as he jerked insistently on his cock, his eyes intent on her juicy little pussy. He could actually see her tiny clit reaching up, begging to be touched.
Finally, Josie broke. She slid the hand down in one swift movement, over her chest, her stomach and down to her inflamed pussy. She cupped her sex tight and moaned as she squeezed it in the palm of her hand.
Clark had to slow his frantic pace to stop himself from coming. He wanted time to enjoy this.
Slowly, Josie spread her fingers, letting the pleats of her pussy peek out between them. Her middle fingers bent at the second knuckle, flattening the tips of them down on her silken inner flesh. These she dragged upwards, stretching the elastic skin with it and forcing her crease to spread wide.
When her fingers squashed down her small hardened nub at her apex she "Ooohed," softly.
As Clark drew out his own pleasure with long slow pulls on his shaft, Josie began to smear her clit around in slow circles.
The siblings pleasured themselves in harmony with each other. Josie fought hard to keep her eyes on the TV, but Clark caught the occasional flick of a look over to his swollen member. For his part, Clark gave his full attention to the tapered fingers she was burrowing into her tender flesh. Already they were shiny with moisture for most of their length.
Josie's mouth was parted, Clark could hear her breaths coming heavy and fast. He fought the urge unload on her smooth, quivering thigh.
He watched as she pinched the small protrusion of her clit between two fingers and began to tug it up and down.
Clark was close now, despite his best efforts, he could feel the climax building up as a swelling pressure just behind the tip of his cock.
Josie's hips bucked against her hand as she too began to feel the tingling of her own approaching climax starting. It started in her fingers and toes and streamed inwards, gathering and building as it swirled towards her core.
Clark spurted a small stream of pre-come onto Josie's thigh, making her tense and groan. He wanted to wait for her though, so, despite the real physical pain it caused him, he let go of his shaft and watched it bob and twitch in its tortured agony just inches from Josie's bared skin.
Josie had her head back and her eyes closed as she thrust her pelvis against her hand with a wet slapping sounds.
Clark wanted to watch her beautiful face as she reached her pinnacle. However, a strand of her dark hair had fallen over it so, without really thinking about it, Clark reached out to brush it aside.
He was just pulling his hand back when Josie seized it. He was immediately aware of how damp her hand felt wrapped around his. Her pussy juices were now pasted to his fingers. But that meant her gasping sex was unattended.
At her touch, he feared he had broken one of the rules and Josie was about to reprimand him. To his surprise, Josie dragged his hand down forcefully until it sank into her impossibly soft, dripping pussy.
At his touch, Josie tilted her head back and rolled it on the back of the couch, whimpering softly. Clark leaned over her and twisted his free hand into her thick, loose hair. Their mouths were so close he could have kissed her with barely any movement at all.
Clark was speechless. He hardly dared breathe. His fingers were smooshed deep in the cleft of his sister's fluttering sex.
She pinned his hand under hers and ground her sopping pussy against it. Clark pulled her head against his chest and breathed in the sweet citrus smell of her hair. His cock rubbed against the fabric of her shirt, leaving a wet streak where his fluid leaked out in his heightened state of arousal.
Josie made a low growl somewhere in the back of her throat.
Her body felt like it was stretching itself past breaking point. Holding his hand in hers, she transitioned quickly between little circles into a violent back-and-forth thrashing. It was like the killing bite of a predator on the neck of it's smaller, weaker prey.
He could feel them, together, painting her sex and inner thighs with her own fluids. The muscles he was pushing down on were bunching up in preparation for release. He knew she was at her tipping point.
Clark felt tears pricking his eyes at the beauty of what was unfolding before him in what felt like slow motion. Josie had her head back, brow furrowed and her elegant neck stretched out. Her lips were parted but her teeth were clenched hard against the muscular spasm moving through her like the unfurling of a whip through the air.
Her chest was arched back, hard nipples pointed to the ceiling and her belly was sucked inwards, towards her spine. Her pussy seemed to be pushing outwards against him, spreading wide to allow his fingers to roll over what felt like a tight cord buried under her skin. He could feel her arousal down from her swollen clitoris to the nerve endings packed in behind it.
The rolling contraction finally hit like the whip reaching the end of its lash, which rends the air with an ear-splitting crack. Josie's whole body snapped rigid. Her legs locked tight and hoisted her crotch up with merciless force into their downward pressing hands.
As her body shuddered beneath him, Josie's cries of pleasure were broken into staccato gasps. She was completely unbound and, frantic to stabilize herself in this maelstrom of ecstasy, she reached out for something to grasp.
Suddenly Clark was the one crying out, as Josie's free hand clamped down painfully on his cock.
The shock and strength of it was an immediate trigger. She may have fallen off the edge, but he had no idea that he had been tied to her. And as the chord joining them snapped taught, he was jerked off after her. Literally.
She yanked his cock inwards and upwards, stabbing it into the side of her breast so that his tip sank into her quivering flesh.
A guttural sound escaped his lips as he unloaded his first blast of hot semen.
He might have expected, at this point blank range, for it to mostly ricochet off her and make a mess of both of them, and the couch. Instead, the fabric of her shirt seemed to absorb and dissipate the spray so that it was forced through the small holes between threads and spread out over her skin beneath the garment like a sheet of liquid metal.
With her body cramped up, Josie could do nothing but hold onto him tightly as he fired gush after gush of seed through the fabric of her shirt until, when it became saturated, he was unloading slimy ropes across her chest. Beneath the shirt, Clark's semen ran in rivulets over the curve of her breast and dripped down onto her rapidly clenching belly and down to pool at the band of her skirt.
His last few depleted expulsions left fat, slug-like globs sticking to the fabric of her shirt.
They were both left panting and suffering the aftershock from the intensity of the shared climax. Clark was still staring at her, open-mouthed when he realized her eyes had opened again. There was a twinkle in those blue irises and, to Clark's surprise, there was a wide grin on her face too. What surprised him more when he realized it seemed hers was largely in response to the smile on his own face. He could not remember the last time he had felt one those break through the stony mask of his visage.
He looked down at the mess had had made of her, yet again. His come had made wet stains over most of her shirt. If he had not just ejaculated he would have groaned at the pleasure of seeing how his semen had made the fabric of her shirt almost completely sheer. Her pink nipples were now peeking through the glistening windows of wet fabric at him, the hardened nubs cruelly flattened by the restricting material.
Josie also looked down at her clothes and then at her hands, sticky from the discharge from both their bodies. Laughing and shaking her head, she stood and quickly stripped off her shirt. She used it to wipe off her dripping torso, before any of it could fall onto the couch or the carpet. Clark watched as her breasts swung and distorted as she cleaned them.
When she noticed her skirt had not escaped the onslaught either, she stripped that off too. It struck Josie then how confident she felt in front of her brother. She had never felt like this with anyone, not even when she was skinny.
Bundling her clothes into a ball she tossed them at Clark and gave a theatrical sigh, saying, "I guess I am going to need another shower. Be a dear and put these in the wash, would you, Clark?"
Clark took them, nodding dumbly. He would have done pretty much anything she asked of him by this point.
Patting him on the cheek, she sauntered away. Clark watched the sway of those perfect hips and the dimples above her ass as she left the room.
Feeling like he woken up in a dream, Clark went about the task of first rinsing and then washing his sister's semen-stained clothes in the machine.
She came downstairs a short while later, damp from the shower and wearing tight little shorts that squeezed in her curves, and allowed generous portions of her ass to spill out of them. She wore a crop top as well, which let her subtly rounded little belly breathe. It was the sort of outfit she would have worn a few years ago when she was still a coltish teenager. It was an even bolder choice than the skirt and hid absolutely none of her exceptional womanly curves from him.
It pleased Clark to think that this his idolization of her body was giving her confidence. It had always seemed crazy to him that she should have any doubts about her overpowering sexuality. Their mother, Josie's friends, everyone who had ever brought her down were blind to her perfection. In Clark's eyes, at the very least, his sister was very ideal of womanhood.
"Okay, buddy," She said as she walked back into the living room looking fresh and satisfied, "Time to get on with the day. As much as this morning has been... stimulating, I have some work to do and you..." she looked him over and then asked, guardedly, "Would you like to do some drawing?"
It took him a moment to consider. He hadn't thought about drawing in a long time. In light of what he had been going through before today it had seemed so inconsequential. But as Josie said it he felt the growing need to hold a pencil in his hand again. The beauty he had been exposed to all morning had overwhelmed him, he knew he had to try and capture some of it on paper before it dissipated.
After a pause to consider her question he asked, "Can I draw you?"
It was the longest sentence Josie had heard out of him in weeks.
Despite everything they had been through this morning she felt heat rush to her cheeks. Could he? She hadn't felt this good about herself in years, but could she really see it recorded on paper? It was hard enough to look at herself into a mirror, could it be worse to see herself through another person's eyes?
When she saw the need, like a flickering flame, in Clark's eyes she was reminded of the lifeless stare he had had only last night. His progress had been so astonishing already, but if she could get him to pick up his pencils again? Surely that had to be worth putting her self-doubts aside.
Finally, with a brave smile on her lips she nodded and said, "As long as you can do it while I work, I don't mind."
Josie had fallen behind in her studies since Clark had gone off to the hospital. Her mind had been so wrapped up in his rapid descent into hopelessness she had lost all appetite for her studies. When she decided to come home from college to help with Clark's recovery she had first begged her professors for exemptions where she could, and extensions where she could not. Nevertheless, there was now a considerable backlog of course work for her to complete.
While she set up her laptop Clark fetched his sketchpad and pencils. He stared long and hard at her face before he put pencil to paper. The short, sharp rasps of his pencil soothed Josie's mind and she was surprised to find the words started to come easier to her today. All other previous attempts in recent weeks had been abortive failures.
There was nothing like a bone-shaking orgasm to clear the mind.
In a couple of hours, with breaks for tea and snacks, she found she had a decent first draft of her paper and felt confident that, with a little more time and editing she could turn it into something close to first rate.
Clark, for his part, had worked maniacally over his sketchbook. His face contorted with concentration and he seemed to be locked in a battle with the paper. Josie did not ask to see what he was working on. In fact, his first few attempts had ended in growls of displeasure, followed the sound of tearing and scrunching paper.
Josie looked up at him occasionally, unable to hide a hint of concern in her eyes, but she never asked if he was okay. People had been asking him that non-stop since he went to the hospital and he appreciated that she knew him well enough to realize it annoyed him more than anything.
Whatever frustrations he felt at his perceived rustiness, Josie could at least see an enlivening determination. Her plan had been even more successful than she could have hoped and Clark was showing parts of himself that had been dormant for months.
Glancing up at his gaunt, but handsome face, his eyes shadowed by a sweep of dark, freshly washed fringe, Josie felt a wash of tenderness pour over her. Only she knew her brother like this and if the rest of the world wrote him off as a creep and a perv, then it was their loss.
When at last he held up his sketch pad and looked between her and the drawing, Josie paused in her typing. For once he seemed satisfied with what he had done, because he put the pad down again without ripping up the image he had created.
"May I see it?" She asked, breaking the long silence.
Clark looked back at the drawing and narrowed his eyes. He hesitated a moment, sucking in his bottom lip while he considered her question. Finally, he gave the barest shrug before handing the sketch pad over. He looked away so that her eyes could not meet his.
"Oh, Clark" Josie sighed as she looked at the picture.
It certainly looked like her, there was no denying Clark's incredible ability to capture a likeness, but it was a side of her she had never seen before. Was this how he saw her? The face on the page was beautiful. It was not idealized, not really. It still captured the roundness of her face, but he had it made it suit her in a way her harsh self-critiques in the mirror never could. Even with the somber, work intent expression she had on her face, there seemed to be a light shining from within her.
"Do you like it?" He asked in a shy little boy's voice that Josie thought had faded away years ago.
She gave him her warmest smile before responding, "I love it. May I keep it?"
He fidgeted in his lap before nodding.
She handed back the book and, while he tore out the page to give to her she asked, "Is that really how you see me?"
Clark gave her a curious look, forcing her to ask, "What?"
"Josie," He said as he handed over the drawing, "That is exactly how you look." There was no arrogance in his statement, his artistic skills could not really be questioned, it was just a simple statement of fact.
"Really?" Even as she asked it she felt stupid for sounding so needy, "I mean, I know I do, you're an amazing artist, but I sometimes think it has only ever been you who sees me this way."
"And what way is that?"
"Beautiful."
Clark sighed deeply and shook his head, saying, "Josie, you are the most beautiful woman I know."
When she began to respond he held up a hand and continued, "I know you have changed a lot from what you used to look like, but I think you're letting mom mess with your head. You may have been cute when you were that scrawny teenage girl, but now you're a woman in your prime. They don't make them like you, Josie, you're one of a kind and you should be proud of your body. I mean, just look at me. I'm your brother, if there is anyone in the world who ought to be blind to your incredible attractiveness it should be me, but I never could help myself when I'm around you."
Josie smiled, feeling the tears returning to her eyes, but she willed them away. She looked down at her body. Despite what he said, she knew she was not perfect. She could stand to lose some weight, but maybe she wasn't as ugly as she thought. Maybe she wasn't ugly at all.
Squeezing her hands into fists and nibbling the dry skin on her lower lip, she spoke again, asking, "Would you like to draw... more of me?"
Clark nodded emphatically.
Still feeling a nervousness she could not shake, Josie was surprised to find that her hands barely shook as she took hold of the bottom of her top, just above her exposed stomach.
As she hoisted it up, her heavy breasts pulled up with the material, stretching upwards until the clinging fabric lost the battle with gravity and her huge tits tumbled out and bounced with solid emphasis on her chest.
Clark stared at them unblinking for a long moment, his tongue darting over his lips, before he snatched up his pencil and sketchpad and began to draw frantically again, his eyes intent on his sister's naked chest.
While he worked, Josie's carriage became more erect and she straightened her shoulders. She could feel her back taking the strain of her heavy mammaries, but for once the stretch of her back muscles felt good, like something she could be proud of.
It was difficult for her to concentrate, but she managed to read over and edit some of the typing she had just done before. She could at least use the spell checker and was careful to prevent her hands from obscuring Clark's view of her. Somehow, the more keenly he stared at her the more confident she felt in herself and the more she wanted to bare herself to him.
Clark finished his sketch quicker this time, he seemed to be finding his form again and ended with a dramatic flourish. Without having to ask, he stood and brought the sketch over to her, seeming not to notice the obvious erection in his shorts or the way Josie stared at it admiringly.
He turned the pad around and showed it to her. Josie actually smiled. The picture showed her as she was. Her breasts, given gravity's merciless attraction to any massive objects, hung lower than they probably should have for a young woman her age. Seated, as she was in the picture, there were even some rolls on her exposed stomach she might have wished were not there. But through Clark's deft touch she saw the beauty, how those creases and curves made her more real. Even the effects of gravity seemed to stem from the desire of something wanting to hold her closer.
She took the picture from Clark and held it up, for once feeling no shame at seeing her own naked body. Clark stood so close she could feel his heat. His hand was at his side, close to her bared breasts. He stared down at them and that hand began to twitch. Josie stopped her inspection of the picture and looked up at Clark through heavy lashes.
All she did was a glance off to the side, but it was communication enough to let him know he could proceed. His hand opened and paused over her swollen mound, close enough that he could feel the warmth of her skin. Josie looked up at him expectantly, willing him on. As he started to lean forward, his hand just brushing her skin with an electrically charged burst, there was a loud click from the front door behind him.
Clark leaped back in startelement and hastily shoved his hand into his pants and pulled his cock up, flattening it beneath his waistband. Josie too reacted in the same instant, fighting to contain her swaying tits as she yanked down her too-tight top.
Clark snatched the drawing out of her hands and quickly tore it up in front of her shocked face. He was just stuffing the pieces into his pocket when their mother stepped into the room.
She had a look of surprise on her face and, for a moment, Josie panicked that she had seen what they were doing before she came in. Josie's face burned red, but she made her best attempt to appear relaxed.
Clark had thrown himself back into his chair and already his demeanor had changed. His shoulders slumped again and that surly look had taken up residence on his face once more.
"Clark?" Their mother questioned, "You're out of your room?" It came out as a question rather than a statement.
Clark, already withdrawing back into himself, shrugged and looked away. His mother came forward in a rush and squatted before him, saying, "Oh Clark, Baby, it is so good to see you I was just popping in to check in on you, but I am so happy to see you out and about again."
Josie marveled at the sincerity of the woman's voice, as if she had not been trying every day since Clark first hit puberty to contain the embarrassment of her son within the confines of his room.
When she reached out to touch him, he flinched back and she sighed. Turning to Josie she began to ask, "How..." but quickly grew distracted as her eyes passed over her daughter. Instead, she asked, "Josie, what are you wearing?!"
Josie clenched her fists into tight balls that made her knuckles white. She could have killed the woman. To her mother, it was more important what her daughter wore, in the privacy of the home no less, than the emotional state of her recently suicidal son.
Josie's mother did not need to say anything more. Just that small sneer on her lean, elegant face was enough to make Josie feel hideous again.
Her mother sniffed and said, "I think you had better change into something a bit more appropriate, Josie. Girls your... size really should dress a bit more conservatively. Honestly, darling, I don't know what you were thinking. What if I had brought a friend home?"
Josie seethed, though her mother either did not notice it or chose to ignore it. Josie was about to stand up and stalk out of the room when Clark beat her to it.
He rudely shoved past their mother and half ran down the hall and up the stairs. They both heard his door slam shut and then they were left together in a heavy silence.
Her mother, clearly taken aback, turned to Josie who only scowled and shook her head. All the progress they had made this morning was ruined by this woman and her need to control everyone.
When her mother spotted the sketchpad, which Clark had used to cover up the first drawing he had done of Josie, she made to turn it over. But Josie stood up sharply and ripped it and the picture beneath it out from under the woman's hand. She could not say why, but somehow she knew having her mother look at Clark's drawing would taint it for her.
"Hey!" Her mother began, but Josie clutched the paper tight to her, using it to hide her exposed stomach from the cruel gaze of her mother.
"What is going on, Josie?" the woman demanded.
Josie felt her jaw grow stiff as she fought the anger she felt towards this woman. No one knew how to make another person feel inadequate with only a glance like her mother did.
"Just leave us alone, mother," She found herself saying, "For once in our lives just give us some space and let us breathe without you having some hurtful comment about how disappointed you are in us."
"Josie!" Her mother shot back, "You will not speak to me like that in my own house. If you have a problem with me then you can go back to college. Goodness knows you have been mooching off us for long enough."
"And who will look after Clark?"
"Josie, I am his mother, I am perfectly capable of caring for my own son."
"Oh please, you can't wait to get out of here. If I hadn't come home Clark would be left all alone. Who knows what he would do then?"
"Josie, I will not have you talk like that."
"Come on, mom. He's an embarrassment to you. You want to keep him drugged up and in his room all day. You think he's a freak, just like everyone else."
"Josie, your brother is very sick, he needs..."
"Maybe you're the sick one, Mom! Maybe your need to dominate and control every part of our lives, even what we think or how we look, is what's wrong."
"Josie!" her mother demanded, but Josie was already storming off. "Josie!" her mother shouted after her, but she too went up the stairs and slammed her bedroom door.
There was a long silence from downstairs, which Josie heard through the quiet sobs that had hit like a storm front as soon as her door closed. She doubted her mother would be crying. The ice in her veins would have to thaw out first.
Josie fought the urge to change her outfit or, at the very least, wrap her body in a towel. She hated the way her mother made her feel so diminished in her presence.
Finally, she heard the front door click shut, her mother was too contained to ever let emotion get the better of her. A pity the same could not be said for her children. Then the roar of her luxury sedan engine started and Josie felt a weight lifting off her as the sound of the car receded down the drive.
Josie sat and stewed in her anger for a long while, before she finally shook it off. She really ought to check on Clark.
But, when she got to his room and knocked softly before trying the doorknob, she found the door was locked.
"Clark?" She called softly and then, when there was no response, "Clark?"
Still, she was met with icy silence. Feeling as if his pain were hers she spoke, "Clark, I know you can hear me."
When there was still no response she placed her forehead to the cool wood and let out a long, slow breath. Softly, as if she could feel him sitting just the other side of the door, she said, "Don't let her get to you, Clark. You have to be stronger than that. You have me now. We can face this together. Clark?"
Silence.
Josie thought for a long moment. If she was going to bring him back again she was going to have to take things up a notch. The way he had responded to her earlier filled her with boldness.
She could get him back. She would get him back.
"Okay, Clark. I'm going to go put on a swimsuit and lay down by the pool." She nearly laughed at the idea, even yesterday the thought of doing that, even in their very private garden, would have horrified her. "My body hasn't seen the sun in years and, thanks to you I feel like I can finally face it again. Mom can go fuck herself." She hoped she sounded confident and that it would give him heart.
"Just remember, you still have the Pass. If you wanted to watch, or even come and join me outside... Perhaps we can pick up where we left off earlier?"
When there was still no sound, Josie turned and went back to her room. She pulled out her swimsuits and looked through them. She ruled out the bikinis immediately. Those had fitted her when she was rake-thin and had the chest to match. Her boobs would look like a pair of melons in a slingshot in one of those.
The only one that might fit was a one-piece she had bought when her mother had given her a one-year gym membership for her birthday last year. Josie had figured she might at least try swimming in the pool for some exercise. The resolution had lasted precisely one day.
She squeezed herself into it, feeling tightness as it pulled in her tummy and narrowed her waist. The suit was designed for training, not for tanning. It left her cleavage covered right up to her neck and forced great lumps of breast flesh to spill out of the wide armholes. Her ass fought its containment with similar vigour. The old her might have been repulsed and likened her current look to a lump of cookie dough forced under a rolling pin. But she took a quick moment to look herself over in the mirror and chose to see it as voluptuousness instead. She had to stop using her mother and her friends as the yardstick of what made women attractive. Clark was making her realise that a lot of men might actually appreciate the way she looked.
Wrapping a towel around her waist, she strode confidently downstairs, out the patio door and to the pool area. Looking up at the house she checked carefully to see which area Clark's window faced. Then, dragging a sun lounger across the flagstone paving, as loudly as she could, she lined it up so that, if Clarke did look out his window, he would be looking down directly at her.
From a bag she had hurriedly packed, Josie pulled out and donned a large pair of sunglasses. She tied her hair into a messy bun and then she hauled out a bottle of sunscreen. She began by applying it to her face and arms. Then she coated it thickly on her legs until they shone in the hot sun. Despite the annoyance her mother had caused, Josie was starting to feel pretty good again. She was just applying sunscreen to the back of her neck when she caught movement out of the top corner of her vision.
Expecting that her glasses would hide the movement of her eyes, she let her gaze drift up once more. She felt a dull ache deep in her core when she caught sight of the shadowy figure standing in Clark's window. She could not see his face, but she knew he was watching.
A little smile tugged at her lips. She had not completely lost him again after all. She still had a hook or two buried inside of him.
Now that she had his attention, she decided Clark needed a little kick to bring him back out of his seclusion.
She tugged at the stretchy straps of her suit, sliding her arms out of them and pulling the material down to midway down her breasts. She did not want the strange tan lines wearing the suit would give her. But, more than that, she also needed to remind her brother of why his life might be worth living after all.
The material of the one-piece constricted her extremely pliable tits. It indented them viciously, forcing the flesh to bulge out over it and wobble there precariously on the edge of exposure.
She began, slowly and with considerably more deliberation, to apply a thick layer of cream to her chest. She massaged it deep into the soft flesh and deeper into her cleavage than was necessary.
When she glanced up again, Clark was closer to the window. She could see his knuckles, the one part of him not in shadow, gripping the sill. Even though she could not see his eyes, she felt them on her, as hot as the sun itself.
She leaned back and sighed contentedly. Those fierce eyes, combined with the heat of the day, made her feel like she was melting into a sticky mess, the most affected area being between her girthy thighs.
Josie was suddenly unsure of what her own body was doing to her. Up until today, her libido had been as low as her opinion of herself. But every time she thought about the new reflection of herself she saw in her brother's eyes it seemed to peel away another layer. It left her feeling so raw and exposed. It was uncomfortable and she desperately needed some kind of relief.
Josie lay like that for a while, feeling the heat building up in her loins as she stretched out beneath the combined gaze of Clark and the Sun. Any time she looked up, she saw Clark in his window.
She bent her legs and let her thighs fall apart. The faint, cool breeze that wafted over her heated-up pussy, made her moan softly. Placing her hands on each pale inner thigh she let them weigh her legs down a little. When she pushed up with her pelvis it stretched something deep inside of her.
Not entirely sure what came over her, Josie found herself fighting the urge to writhe on the sun lounger. Knowing that Clark was watching her made her want to perform for him. She wished she could see his eyes.
Her left hand was sliding up and down her thigh now, each time getting closer and closer to her lycra covered mound. When her hand bumped it accidentally she groaned and rolled her hips. Outside and with an audience, her body felt like every nerve ending was smoldering, just a few degrees below the point of ignition.
She stroked long and slow with the backs of her hands across the broad expanse of soft skin. Then she reached up and cupped a full breast, kneading the firm flesh beneath the suit. Everything she did felt so good. She needed more.