The Grandest Canyon

by Lubrican

Chapters : 1 | 2 | 3

A long time ago, a nice reader named Janette sent me some feedback suggesting I should write a story about a family that takes a road trip. I put that idea in my projects folder, where it sat for many moons. Then, a few weeks ago, it started whining, so I pulled it out and wrote it. I just wanted to thank Janette for a good idea.


Chapter One

Life throws us curves, now and then. Our family was no different than any other. In our case, the most serious curve was the tornado that spread our house over two counties, and took my wife, and my children's mother away from us. As if that wasn't bad enough, the company I had worked for was gone too. The whole town was destroyed, for that matter.

Family tried to help, but very few families can take in an adult and three teenaged kids. It's too much. So besides losing their mother, the kids got separated from each other and me too. I had a sister named Sarah, and she took Lynne, my thirteen-year-old daughter. Scotty went to my best friend, Don, from my Army days. Scotty was fifteen and good with tools, and Don owned a mill-working operation where Scotty would be able to explore and learn about the business. He had a dream of owning a woodworking shop. For my middle son, Shaun, my mom and dad were the answer. Shaun was always their favorite anyway, even if they'd never admit it, and Dad could always use help on the farm.

As for me, I went back to Glenndale and worked for those who were rebuilding the town. There were places to live if you weren't too picky. Tornado damage is really interesting, in the same way a Great White Shark's teeth are interesting. You don't want to see it close up, or in action. I stayed in half of a house that was left. It was like some giant axe had cut the house in two, and then half of it had been removed by trucks, right down to the bare pad underneath. What was left were three bedrooms at one end of the place. Six of us lived there, with a generator for support. There was no shortage of refrigerators, lamps and anything else that used to belong in a house.

Eventually my insurance money came through. But rebuilding was a long, drawn out process. Rezoning was going on, and everything had to be cleared away before plans could be made. There weren't enough architectural companies in the whole state to come up with that many house plans, and even if they did, there weren't enough skilled construction workers to build them. It was going to take a long, long time. I was willing to help, but I couldn't just build a new house. Not there, anyway.

So I banked the money, putting most of it in CDs and bought a motor home to live in until things could get worked out.

A year later, I still couldn't build. It was summer, and I missed the kids. The motor home was a used Four Winds Hurricane model, which seemed awfully ironic.

It set me back almost thirty grand, but that was a fraction of the insurance money, and it would let me live a lot better than I had been living. It was a Class A gasoline model and was pretty amazing inside. It had ducted air conditioning, a split bath with a garden tub, a three burner stove and three beds, if you folded out the full size couch. The kitchen also had a built in microwave and wall mounted oven, as well as a booth that would seat four to eat. There were two slide-outs and it even had a patio awning. With captain's chairs for the driver, navigator and another passenger, it was as comfortable as being at home in a recliner.

As soon as I took delivery, I knew I had to go get the kids and go on a road trip. We'd been separated too long.

I collected Scotty first. He made a big deal of being fine, but I could feel the relief in his arms when he hugged me. Driving something that big is really different, and I usually was pretty happy if we could get up to sixty for any period of time. It took us two days to get up to Wisconsin to pick up Shaun, who was also obviously glad to see me. A day and a half later, we pulled up to my sister's place and Lynne came running out. I think it was Lynne who reminded me of how long we'd been apart. My thirteen year old, flat-chested, tomboy was gone. In her place was a fourteen year old bombshell, with flowing hair, and makeup on and more curves than a road in the Ozarks has. As she ran towards us, Scotty said "Who's that?" and then "Wow!" Shaun just stared.

Meanwhile, I noticed that the breasts she'd grown during the last year, were bouncing up and down as she ran towards us. They were soft too, as they crushed against my chest.

Before the tornado, they had all three fought all the time, complaining about each other and vying for privilege and status within the family. That was all gone. Lynne was crying outright as she went from me to her brothers, hugging both of them for all she was worth. My sister walked toward us, a little teary-eyed herself. I got a hug from her and was mildly astonished that her chest felt just like my daughter's against mine.

"What the hell did you feed her?" I asked weakly.

"She's a beauty, isn't she," sighed my sister. "I'm sure she's got my genes."

I patted my sister on her round, firm ass. "We'd better hope not," I said into her hair. "You're a slut, baby sister."

"I was a slut," she said, slapping my own backside. "Those days are gone. I'm a staid old fuddy duddy these days."

"Is that why Frank always sounds so happy?" I asked her, Frank was her husband, and he did always sound happy.

"He'll be happy to get a rest from your daughter," said Sarah. "She's learned how to tease, and it drives him nuts."

"She teases him on purpose?"

"No. It's just in her blood. She really is like me when I was her age."

"Then we're in big trouble," I said. Many was the time my sister came and crawled into bed with me because she was scared of a storm, or of the boogey man, or of whatever. She really was scared the first time or two, but neither of us expected how I would eventually calm her down.

After that, the storms were just an excuse. What she really wanted was me on top of her, pinning her to the bed while she had orgasms.

"Just get an industrial size barrel of salt peter," said Sarah, grinning. "Put it in everything you feed them. Take an extra dose yourself."

"Thanks," I said. "Wanna go camping with us? We're going to the Grand Canyon."

She looked over at my sons, both strong and tall, with broad shoulders.

"I'd come back pregnant with triplets," she laughed. "No thanks. You go off and have a good time. You all deserve it."

And with that, I called what was left of my family together, and we got into what was now our home, and which contained everything on earth we owned.

Then we headed west.

Scotty had gotten his driver's license while he was with Don. The Hurricane was a bit much for him, initially, but he sat and watched how I drove and we talked about it. There would be places he could practice. I anticipated he'd be able to handle daytime driving, at least on the Interstate.

But until that happened, the kids spent their time in the back, catching up on what each of them had been doing for the last year. It made me proud that they got along so well. There was no yelling, and no complaining as I drove along. And I wasn't left out. At various times all three of the kids sat in the navigator's seat, next to me, and we talked as what I called "the bus” glided along towards our first stop as a camping family.

I had an itinerary all planned out. There are a number of motor home clubs, and they have parks all over the U.S. that are designed specifically for motor homing families. It was one of those where we spent our first night, parked with about thirty other big motor homes, most of which were a lot fancier than ours. But the people were very welcoming. The camp office had a store, where we could get milk, eggs, canned food and the like, sort of like a convenience store, except they also had lots of other things, like coffee pots, and jack stands and leveling pads and a hundred things I didn't even know what were used for.

The kids, though, noticed the swimming pool and hot tub right away. It was early June, and still cool, so the consensus was hot tub. The kids were already changed by the time I got back from registering. I didn't think anything about that at the time, what with only one bathroom, and it not really large enough to change clothes in comfortably. The boys were pretty quiet, too, kind of wide-eyed as I climbed in, but I didn't think anything of that, either. This was an adventure, after all. I wasn't to find out until much later that Lynne had just stripped down to the buff to put on her bathing suit, and that the boys had been treated to that view without a word.

Her bathing suit, on the other hand, I did notice. Big time. One look at it reminded me that I'd left my cute little tomboy daughter with a slut. I hadn't thought about it that way when it happened, but that's what I did, cutting to the chase. And my sister had ... advised ... my daughter on things from a slut's point of view. I knew with unshakable surety, for example, that Sarah had helped Lynne pick out this bathing suit.

It was red. The top was a band of cloth about three inches tall, that wrapped around her chest, covering the middle portion, from top to bottom, of my daughter's breasts. Remember those breasts that hadn't been there when I dropped her off? The ones that were bouncing around as she ran towards me when I picked her up? Yeah ... those breasts. The top did nothing to cover the bottoms or tops of those breasts, just the middle, where the nipples were. And those nipples were clearly visible, poking through the cloth. There was a string that went up around her neck, apparently to keep the whole thing from just falling to her hips if she blew out all her breath or something, but all that did was make the viewer - the male viewer - hope that she blew out all her breath, and that the string failed. The bottoms were made of two pieces of cloth that were sewed together over her mons, and went up to glide over her hips to a back that looked exactly like the front. That left the bottom of her glutes exposed, like the bottom of her breasts were exposed.

She saw me looking and posed with a saucy look on her face.

"Like it? Aunt Sarah says it sets off my skin tones."

What it set off was every bit of her that was female. I was looking at her skin, but not for the tones, believe me.

Of course I felt bad about that. It was a little confusing, to be honest. I knew she was my daughter, but she looked a lot like my wife. That was still a soft spot in my heart. I hadn't had a woman since losing Roxy ... hadn't even been interested in a woman since I lost her, and the sudden appearance of her daughter, looking so much like she had, not to mention hotter than a two dollar pistol, made it hard on me not to think what I was thinking. I tried to work up the breath and control to suggest that the suit was a bit too brief, but she didn't give me time.

"Come on guys!" she squealed. "Last one there has to clean the toilet!"

Then she was bounding off across the park, looking like a human elk, leaping gracefully over obstructions, just the picture of health and happiness. I almost laughed as the two hyenas in the family tore off after her, howling and chasing the prey.

I don't know for sure what happened at the hot tub. Nobody came and talked to me about it directly, neither the kids, nor the camp employees nor any other guests. But something happened, because when the kids got back, they had a low opinion of the place.

"The only people here are geezers," complained Shaun as soon as he tromped up the steps into the bus.

"Yeah, and they're grumpy too," added Scott as he came in next.

But it was Lynne's entrance that gave me a clue. She had her towel wrapped around her like it was much colder than it was. And she wasn't bubbly happy any more. I guessed that some "geezer" had commented on her swim suit and suggested it was inappropriate for anyone who wasn't trolling for johns. Or something like that. Maybe it was some casual comment between geezers involving the word "slut." When a young woman is stretching her wings, and somebody clips them, it can be a pretty unhappy experience.

In any case, the party mood was gone. It had been a long day for poor old dad, so I told them I was going to sleep. That brought up the topic of the other sleeping arrangements. There were two bedrooms, each with a queen bed, and then the couch that was a hide-a-bed. I claimed one bedroom, pronounced the other one was Lynne's, and that the boys could sleep on the couch.

That got some comments from the boys, who weren't excited about sleeping with each other.

I said, "Okay, Lynne, honey, which brother do you want to sleep with?" I was joking, of course, trying to use levity to point out the obvious difficulty. My dear, darling daughter, however, did not play along.

"I don't care," she said, carelessly. "As long as he doesn't snore."

It was actually the vehemence with which the boys argued for the privilege that caused me to stick to the original plan, though I did massage it a little.

"You guys get the couch tonight, and Lynne gets it tomorrow. You'll switch off and on after that. That's fair."

There was some grumbling, but not much, and not loud. The kids said they were going to stay up and play cards, something the whole family used to do frequently before the tornado. I lay in bed, drifting off, listening them joking with each other and talking softly. It made me feel like we were a real family for the first time since nature had torn our lives apart.

The next day we drove to Kansas City, to the Worlds of Fun theme park there. They have places with hookups for motor homes to park. The kids went crazy, riding rollercoasters, mostly (they have four or five there) and generally acting like they were ten, instead of teenagers. The boys flirted with girls they met in line. Lynne flirted with boys too. I rode some rides, but mostly just watched them having fun. It was good for my heart to see them laughing and smiling. I really wished Roxy was there, but I figured she was watching from somewhere, and that helped a little.

They were exhausted that night, and we weren't in a hurry, so we stayed there. This time they didn't stay up, and everybody went to bed around nine. I woke up around midnight, and saw a light on out in the common area. I didn't think about Lynne being out there on the couch, and just got up to go turn off the light.

She hadn't folded out the couch. Rather, she was just stretched out on the cushions, reading a book. She looked up at me when I walked in.

"Hi Daddy. I couldn't sleep."

I had stopped, and was just standing there. She had on the exact same style, color and cut of babydoll pajamas that Sarah used to wear when she came and wormed her way into bed with me. For a second I thought they were the same babydoll pajamas. But they couldn't be. They'd be thirty years old by now, and falling apart. These looked fresh and new. I realized she'd had help from Sarah on sleepwear too.

If this was what she'd been wearing around in front of Sarah's husband, I could understand why he needed a break. The jacket was completely transparent, and yet somehow white. The bra under it bulged with breasts that filled it to overflowing. Her brown nipples were clearly visible through the cloth. Her panties also did nothing to obstruct what was in them, and I swear they were cut purposefully to create a camel toe. Her dark pubes puffed the cloth out, but they were pulled up tightly enough that her young pussy lips were clearly displayed.

But there was nothing artful about it. She was just a girl, lying on a couch, dressed comfortably, reading a book.

"You've sure grown up," I breathed.

She smiled, but only briefly. "I miss mom," she said softly. Suddenly her eyes glistened, and all thought of her sexuality fled my mind. I sat down on the edge of the couch beside her.

"I know, Baby," I said. "Me too."

"There are so many questions I have," she said, her voice quivering.

"What about?" I asked, ready to dispense wisdom.

"Growing up, I guess," she said. "Girl stuff."

"Sarah couldn't help?"

She smiled again, only briefly. "Nothing against her - I love her and she was great - but she's a slut, Dad. She gives terrible advice."

"Oh," I said, trying to hide a smile.

"As far as Aunt Sarah is concerned, the sooner I get pregnant and start popping out babies, the better."

"Did you ask her why she didn't follow her own advice?" I asked.

"Yeah. Turns out she has something wrong with her, and she can't have children. She said she'd take my first three to adopt and raise."

"She said that, huh," I said, smiling.

"The sad thing is I don't think she was kidding, Dad," she said, rolling her eyes. "She tried to get me to shave off all my pubic hair, so I could wear a bikini even smaller than the one I got!"

"Well, you don't have to do that," I said firmly.

"I know that," she said, as if I were a half wit. "But I get these weird feelings about boys, and I can't talk to her about that, because she'll just tell me to go have fun, which is what the boys want to do. And that's another thing. Boys are still stupid, but it doesn't make me as mad as it used to, and that doesn't make sense!"

"Well, the feelings are normal," I said. "That's what she'd tell you."

"That doesn't really help all that much," she said.

"Actually, it does," I countered. "Just remember all girls have those feelings. They're normal. There's nothing wrong with you for exploring them and thinking about them. It's not naughty or forbidden or any of that crap. Just be yourself."

She looked up at me with a frown marring the line of her eyebrows.

"So ... exploring ... is okay?"

As a parent I modified my answer immediately. "Within reason," I said. "For example, some kids wonder what it might be like to fly. They shouldn't explore by jumping off the barn with their arms spread. That's not reasonable."

"Well duh," she said.

"Generally, the best policy with exploration is not to do anything you can't undo," I said.

"Hmmm." She was lost in thought. I could almost hear the gears turning. Finally her eyes focused on me again.

"Am I pretty, Daddy?"

There was no pause before I answered. "Drop dead gorgeous, honey," I said, and I meant it.

"Thank you," she said.

I leaned down to kiss her on the forehead, but she lifted her head and kissed me on the lips. It was a quick kiss, but her lips were warm and soft. That, and the transition from advice to my opinion of her desirability had reawakened the unruly friend in my boxers. Suddenly, she was a drop dead gorgeous teen in see through jammies and I needed to go service the purple headed cream dispenser.

And no, I did not feel guilty about that. Like I said, she looked just like a younger version of Roxy.

Whatever happened at the hot tub that night resulted in the kids deciding that camping in places where there were dozens of other motor homes was not what we were all about. So they took the atlas and gathered around the kitchen table, putting their heads together to make a new plan on where we'd stop for the night. They favored state parks, as it turned out, which was fine with me.

We had a great day, stopping to see the biggest ball of twine in the world, and the deepest hand dug well in the world. We toured an underground salt mine, which was just freaky cool.

And that night, we ended up stopping at a place called Paulson Lake. They didn't have hookups for RVs, but that was all right, because the Hurricane could be independent for a week or so. The water tank was full and the auxiliary generator provided power.

We parked in a cul-de-sac not far from the lake, and the kids went for a hike while I worked on getting the portable barbeque fired up to cook hamburgers and hotdogs. There was a tub of store-bought potato salad in the fridge, and other things to snack on in the cupboards. The first of the meat was ready to come off the grill when I heard whooping and hollering and three teenagers came galloping toward me. It was apparently a race of some kind.

They commenced to cause wholesale destruction of the food I'd so carefully laid out, all neat and pretty, but I didn't care. We were having fun, and it had been much too long since we'd been able to have fun together.

It had warmed up that day, with the temps climbing into the high seventies. There was a fire pit at the campsite, and somebody had left some wood there, so we had a campfire. The moon was full and it was wonderful, just sitting and talking. Scotty was talking about a girl he liked. The way he talked about her, it sounded like they'd been pretty hot and heavy. Things eventually tapered off until we were all just staring into the fire, thinking our own thoughts.

Lynne stood up and said she was going down to the lake. There was a trail that went through some scrubby trees, and she disappeared into them. The moon was so bright that you really didn't need a flashlight. She'd been gone ten minutes before Scotty said "Hey, is it safe for her to be down there alone?" He was the one who'd been living in an urban environment, where things weren't safe. Shaun, had lived with my parents on the farm, where if there was a problem, you hauled out the shotgun and went to take care of it. So Shaun stood up and said maybe we should go check on her.

The three of us walked down the path, which was rocky. We all had on running shoes, which didn't make any noise, and the path was wide enough that we didn't brush against the trees. As it turned out, Lynne probably wouldn't have heard us coming anyway. She was ... distracted.

Her clothes were lying on the beach, neatly folded. She was in the water, out far enough that it was up to her thighs. She was in profile to us - why she was facing that way I don't know - and the moon lit her up as if it were a light bulb.

She was masturbating.

Her right hand was between her legs, moving in slow circles, and in the silence of all three of us holding our breath, we could hear her little whimpers of joy as she mauled her clitty. Her left hand came up to pinch a nipple and pull it away from her chest far enough that I winced. She gave a choking sob, and her arm bent as her wrist bent too. I don't know if the boys knew it, but it was crystal clear to me she had just shoved a finger deep into her sex.

The boys, having held their breath as long as if they were practicing to be pearl divers, finally had to let it out, and it came out together, and loud.

With a gasp, their sister jerked her hand away from her pussy and turned to face us. Then she fell into the water and splashed away from the beach. I could hear her sobs of shame.

Do not ask me what I was thinking, because I can't tell you. Apparently I thought that if we were all naked, it would even things out. In any case, I barked "Clothes off, boys! We're all going skinny dipping!"

A couple of minutes later, my two sons were standing there, unsure of themselves, milling around. I think that's because they were both sporting erections. Oddly, now that I think back on it, I was not.

I growled at them to get in the water and act like nothing had happened. I saw Lynne, only her head above water, watching us from thirty or so feet away.

The boys waded in quickly, and I followed. There was no discussion. Somehow we all knew to let her come to us, rather than for us to try to go get her before she was ready to face us. It was kind of silly, really, with the three guys all facing each other, trying to think of something to talk about, when all we could think about was the girl, way over there by herself. We all knew she was embarrassed. I think we were a little embarrassed for her ... not because we were judging her. I know the boys masturbated. All boys masturbate. But they loved her, and didn't want her to feel bad.

So I took the opportunity to do a little counseling.

"Gentlemen," I said, my voice cast low. I didn't want her to hear this part. "It's not socially acceptable to get a hardon for your sister."

"It wasn't for her!" said Shaun, in instant teenager defensive mode.

"Well," I said, "It's not socially acceptable to get one for your brother or father either."

"Shit, Dad," he groaned.

"You know what your mother would do if she was here and heard you talk like that," I said softly.

"I'm sorry," he said immediately.

It was quiet for a while.

"I wish she was here to yell at me," he whispered.

"I know," I said.

"She's just such a fox!" said Shaun, miserably. I knew he was talking about Lynne again.

"I know that too," I said.

"Yeah," said Scotty belatedly, agreeing with his brother. He looked over his shoulder at Lynne.

"We shouldn't make her feel bad about being good looking," I said.

"I don't think that's what's bothering her right now," said Scotty.

"Well we shouldn't make her feel bad about that either."

"I don't care if she does it," said Scotty, his voice strained. "But how do you talk to her to say that?"

"I'm not sure there's a way to do that," I said. "It's not the sort of thing that routinely comes up in family discussions, so there hasn't been a lot of advice passed down through the ages about that."

"I don't want her to feel bad," said Shaun.

"I'm glad you feel that way," I said. "You guys used to fight a lot."

"We were stupid," said Scotty. "We didn't know how good we had it. Now we do."

I took a chance. I stood up, exposing myself, and faced Lynne.

"Honey, we love you. You don't have to be alone over there unless you just want to."

I sank back down into the water. The boys looked at me. Then they looked over at her.

Scotty stood up next. His erection had disappeared.

"We'll leave if you want us to," he said.

There was a long pause.

"No," she said. "You can stay."

It took maybe ten minutes, but she drifted closer and closer to us. We'd given up trying to think of something to have a conversation about. We were just there, waiting for her to get the courage to rejoin us, whereupon we were going to try to make sure she understood everything was fine. I guess we hoped everything would be fine. When she got close enough, we opened the circle, so there was space between me and Shaun. She eventually eased into it.

"I feel so stupid," she said.

"You're not stupid," said Scotty. "We should have yelled we were coming."

"That's silly," said the only female present. "Why would you warn me you were coming?"

"In case you were ..." He trailed off.

"This is so embarrassing," she moaned.

"No it's not," said Shaun. "Everybody does it. Me and Scott do it. Dad probably did it when he was young too."

I decided not to clue them in to the fact that I masturbated more now than I ever did when I was a kid.

"Really?" Suddenly there was more curiosity and less distress in her voice.

"It's normal," I said, wondering if any other family had ever had this conversation - ever!

"So you weren't grossed out?"

Again, don't ask me why I said it, because I could have kept my mouth shut. But I didn't. Maybe I was trying to suggest there was an adult in charge. Which there apparently was not, now that I think about it.

"Of course not. I had to lecture them about having improper feelings about you."

"I beg your pardon?" Now her voice was interested, on the verge of wary.

"Never mind," I said. I should have left it there. But this wasn't a night where things were going well in the wisdom of dad area. "What you were doing was normal, and the way they reacted was normal too. Inappropriate, but normal." I looked up at the moon as I said it. I almost groaned.

"How did you react?" she asked, facing Scotty.

"It's getting late!" I blurted. "We'll all turn into prunes if we don't get out of the water!"

She ignored me.

"So?" She leaned closer to Scotty.

There was obviously some residual mischief left in Shaun, from before. He also spoke without thinking it through.

"He got a boner for you!" he tattled gleefully.

Scotty turned on him and snarled "Well you did too!"

"Really!" said their sister, her voice thoughtful. But nobody was paying attention to her. There was suddenly a wrestling match in the water.

It ended as quickly as it started, though. Shaun squealed "Ewww you're naked!" and lunged away. Scott, disgusted, just left the water, exposing his firm, broad-shouldered body as he stalked out of the water. When he bent over to snatch up his clothes, he mooned us all. It was unintentional, but I understood completely why it was called "mooning."

I looked at Lynne, who was watching him. She glanced at me.

"Boys are so stupid," she said.

Then, as if nothing had happened, and everything was just hunky dory, she walked toward the shore. Completely un-self conscious, she picked up her clothes and walked back to the bus naked. I hurried after her, and heard Shaun right behind me. When I got to the bus Scotty was standing in his briefs, outside the bathroom door.

"She came in here naked!" he said, his voice sounding odd. "She pushed right by me and said she got the shower first."

I stepped over to the door and opened it a crack so I could yell through it. The water was already on.

"Make it quick!" I yelled. "We've only got a hundred gallons of water."

"Okay," she sang out.

I closed the door, wondering in what way our lives had just changed.

I knew they had changed. In fact, I knew they had changed a lot.

But I had no clue as to just how much that was.

I began to get an inkling of how much things had changed when Lynne came out, naked and unashamed.

"I forgot my clean clothes," she said, as if she were simply pointing out that her pencil needed sharpening.

The boys were staring at her. Shaun had put on tidy whities, like his brother, and he put his hand over his bulge. I knew what was happening. Scotty just went on into the bathroom.

"Short shower!" I yelled.

"I know!" he yelled back.

"What are you looking at?" I heard Lynne's voice say.

There was a pause, and then Shaun's belligerent "You!" popped out.

"Pervert!" she snapped.

"That's enough, you two!" I said forcefully.

"He's looking at me!" she complained.

"You're naked," I pointed out. "Remember when you asked me if you were pretty? Well, now you're naked too. What do you expect?"

She slumped. "I don't know. I'm all mixed up inside. I don't know how to feel."

"Well put something on and let's talk about it then," I said. I looked at Shaun. "Give her a break. Stop looking at her."

He opened his mouth and said "I can't ..." He stopped and then went on. "I don't want to," he said. He looked at his sister's face. "I don't want to stop looking. That's how I feel about things, okay? Whether it's right or wrong, or perverted or whatever, it's how I feel. So however you feel is fine too ... even if that means you think I'm a pervert."

She got panties out of her suitcase and pulled them on. We both watched her pack that pussy into those panties.

"I don't think you're a pervert," she said, reaching for a T shirt. She pulled it on, and looked at her brother. "I'm a little afraid I'm a pervert."

"You?" He was clearly surprised. "Why?"

"Because I actually like you looking at me," she said. "How stupid is that?"

Scotty opened the bathroom door. He had the clothes he'd been wearing that day wadded up in front of his groin. He hadn't remembered to take clean clothes in with him either.

"I heard yelling," he said. "Is it safe to come out?"

"Only us perverts out here," said Shaun. He glanced at Lynne and grinned. She grinned back.

I relaxed. It looked like maybe we'd dodged a bullet.

Let me tell you, folks. If you ever decide you want to have a conversation that you'll remember in perpetuity, just gather your adolescent progeny together to have a friendly, honest discussion about what makes one horny, and what to do about it.

I honestly don't think it would have been possible (or would have turned out like it did) if they hadn't been separated for a year. That distance blunted the usual sibling rivalry, and helped them see each other as something like really good friends who haven't seen each other for a long time.

Suffice it to say that the boys were able to explain that, to them, Lynne was a beautiful, sexy girl, the kind they got to see from afar, but could never ever actually talk to. And to have such close access to her, not to mention seeing her naked, made them feel like they were living a dream.

I thought that might be overdoing it a tad bit, but her response wasn't that of a girl whose head has swelled.

She talked about how, in the past, she competed with boys, trying to establish her value as an equal to them. When her body blossomed, and she started having strange feelings along with it, she felt like she could no longer compete, and that sucked all her self confidence away. Now what boys wanted from her had nothing to do with her skill, or ability, and it made her feel helpless. They were seeing her as a sexual being, but she didn't know what that meant, or how to act.

But when her brothers reacted to her sexuality, that was a whole different thing, because she knew they loved her, and appreciated her for much more than her boobs. At the same time, the things she felt when they looked at her, didn't feel so terrifying. She could want them to look at her like that, because she could trust them completely.

I was pretty much astonished at how mature they were about discussing the whole thing. And I thought it all went remarkably well until Shaun said: "Okay, so what now?"

I said "What do you mean?"

"Is she going to run around naked any more?"

"Why would you ask that?" I asked.

"Because I want to see her again?" He thought that was obvious.

"You are a pervert," she said, but she was smiling. "Are you going to run around naked so I get to see you too?"

He blushed, and looked very nervous.

Once more, I spoke without thinking things through clearly. Maybe it was the relative success of my other blunders that did it.

"What if we all did?" I asked.

There were suddenly three very alert teenagers looking at me. It made me nervous, because now I had to come up with something as impressive as what they had just done.

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