Erotic story leads to erotic encounters

Erotic story leads to erotic encounters, I shifted from foot to foot, uncomfortably watching as my sister, Shelly read. She kept shaking her head and occasionally grunting in disgust. I resisted the urge to question her, to defend my statements as she made her way through the pages. Finally she finished the last page and slid the pile of papers back to me.

“Well,” I said, trying to read her expression.


She stared at me for a moment, her face unreadable. Her fingers tapped lightly on the table. It was unbearable and I finally broke.

“Come on, sis!” I said, placing my hands on the table and leaning toward her. “What do you think?”

“Well, uhm…” she started, her face finally showing some reaction. “The grammar is pretty good, and the punctuation should pass, but …”

“But what? This is half my grade, and if I don’t pass Mom will kill me!”

“She’d probably kill you if she read this paper.”

“Yeah, well that’s why I asked you to read it.”

“Gee, thanks. Just what I wanted to do, get a glimpse of your perverted mind. You could have warned me.”

“It’s not perverted, it’s erotic fiction!” I replied, only half believing it myself.

“Yeah try that argument on her and see how far it goes! Now explain to me again how this paper is supposed to go. I mean so far it just seems like fantasy writings of a pervert infatuated with his mom.”

I took a deep breath, trying not to get angry. I had worked hard on this paper, and I needed it to be great. Anything less and I’d probably fail the class. And I only had until Monday, just three days, until it was due.

“Okay! Professor Jones is on this erotic fiction kick. Apparently some of the first novels ever written were erotica. She posted a list of topics. Trust me, this was the tamest. I have to write a story and include all the problems that make it so taboo. Then I’m supposed to analyze them and show how the characters overcome the problems.”

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I held out the paper with the list of topics on it. She grabbed it and looked it over, her face turning crimson as she read. She handed the paper back, then made as if to wipe her hands on her jeans.

“This professor is one sick individual. Remind me to never take any of his courses.” Shelly said, a hint of sympathy in her voice.

“It’s a she, and you’re right. She is sick. Mom said the same thing when I told her what I had to write about.” I replied.

“Wait a minute. You actually told mom you were writing a story about incest?” Shelly said, staring at me wide eyed.

“Well, uhm, I just said it was erotic fiction. She called such stories nothing but rubbish, and threatened to call the school. I didn’t dare tell her the details. She would have blown a gasket.”

“Well, you’ve got the description down, in every pornographic, if unbelievable detail” She said, turning her attention back to the paper,” but I don’t see you addressing the problems, much less analyzing how they overcome them.”

“It isn’t a term paper. The problems have to be integral to the story. That’s where I’m having the problem, showing how the difficulties present themselves, and what do you mean unbelievable?” I said, almost shouting.

“Well, let’s start with this.” She said turning to the third page.

“Susan tried not to stare at Jeff’s cock as he pissed, the heavy stream of urine splashing against the frozen ground causing steam to wisp up into the chill air. The mere sight of his cock sending shivers through her body.”

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“Yeah, what about it?”

“Come on! First of all, he’s taking a piss. Nothing exciting there, and he’s her son. Hell, she’s probably seen his dick a thousand times and there’s no way seeing it should have that sort of an effect.”

“Yeah, well maybe, but some women …” He knew she was right, but wasn’t about to give up.

“Some women, right, freaks or those that only exist in the juvenile minds of horny guys.”

“Maybe I should have him jacking off.”

“Oh, so much better.” The sarcasm in her voice was obvious. “Could you imagine mom walking in on you while you were doing that?”

I blushed. The simple fact was that I had.

“So, how do I fix it?” I said, hoping she hadn’t notice.

“It’s the whole concept, David. I mean, she’s not going to get turned on seeing him. I don’t know. Maybe, maybe turn it around. Let her be the one who’s peeing, and him catching a glimpse of her. You have to start showing the problems from the start. Make the forbidden nature of it an integral part of the story.”

“And how’s that supposed to work?”

“Well, it’s simple really. The sight of a pussy always turns a guy on, and the forbiddenness of her son watching her. It takes the blame off her, you see. No guilt, no crossing the border on her part.”

“But wouldn’t she just yell at him.”

“Probably, but it would set the seed. Let him watch for a minute before she notices.”

“I got it, and maybe he could he holding his cock.”

“Slow down fella, things like this take time.” she replied almost laughing.

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I looked at her quizzically as I rewrote the whole scene in my head. The words flowed and the images moved. God, it would be hot.

“This has to build slowly. No cock, maybe she notices his bulge through his trousers, but that’s it. Push things too quick and you either lose credibility for the story, or you chase the mother away.”

“Now here, the shower scene.” she continued, flipping to the next page.

“No way does she just walk into the shower with him.”

“Got it.” I replied, as the whole flow of the story reshaped. “How about she’s in the shower, and he’s spying on her. Maybe she notices, but isn’t sure. Just a feeling of being watched.”

“Now you got the idea. Slow things down. This is the ultimate seduction; remember you’re trying to get a woman to commit the most taboo of acts. She’ll be riddled with guilt and conflicting emotions. This won’t be easy for her.”

I sat down across the table from her, hoping she wouldn’t notice my growing erection. From the look on her face, I knew I was too late.

“God, David.” she said, her face turning red.

I tried my best to look confused but she saw through it.

“You’re not really thinking, I mean you don’t think …”

“Don’t be an idiot!” I replied perhaps a bit too intensely.

“You are! You sick bastard, you’re actually thinking about mom!”

“It’s not like that.” I replied, my face flush with embarrassment. “Okay, so maybe I imagine mom, but I’d never even consider trying it.”

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