When 18-year-old Brian catches his twin sister watching a raunchy incest porn movie, everything changes between them. Suddenly he’s desperate to touch and taste her sexy body…but they both agree there’s one line they absolutely can’t cross. Then their parents leave town for a week. Can they stay strong, or will they succumb to their overpowering taboo lust?

~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~

It was about three-thirty when I got back home. I'd barely opened the door when I heard unmistakable grunts, groans, and other sounds of passion coming from the living room, just around the corner. Someone was--or, more properly, some ones were--getting laid in there.

That was quick work, I said to myself. They must've been really horny. I'd only been gone for about ten or fifteen minutes, so I figured that, once my twin sister, Brielle was alone, she had wasted no time in getting her boyfriend into the house…and then into herself. Some brothers might've been upset at the thought of some guy they didn't know laying their sister, but I'm not one of those brothers. After all, we were over eighteen, and I figured she had every bit as much right to enjoy a good roll in the hay as I did. And at least one of the girls I'd laid had been sister to some dude of whose business I didn't think it was.

Dad was out for the afternoon, and he wasn't due home until about five. Mom wouldn't get home from her job as dietician at a local hospital until a little after that. And Brielle'd had every reason to believe I'd be out for a couple of hours, so horniness was the only reason for haste.

Always ready for a little entertainment…real-life porn in this case…I closed the front door quietly and tiptoed through the foyer to a point where I could peek around the corner.

What I saw wasn't quite what I expected.

Yes, two people were up to no good in the living room. But it wasn't Brielle and her boyfriend. It was two porn actors on the television screen. Brielle, who clearly thought she was alone in the house, was sitting at the far end of the couch. Her pants were around her ankles, and her fingers slid up and down where they would do the most good as I watched. She had her eyes glued to the screen, so she didn't see me.

As I watched, her movements intensified. She closed her eyes--in spite of the action on the screen--and threw her head back in concentration.

That was when it came to me: I wasn't going to have to do any of the household chores for the rest of the summer. (It was early June--only two weeks into the summer break--so “rest of the summer” really meant “most of the summer.”) I pulled out my phone and started recording. The phone's camera had only digital zoom, so there wasn't much point in zooming in. Besides, if this was going to be good blackmail material, I needed to get both her face and the action in her crotch in the picture at the same time. Getting the action on the TV screen would've been nice, too, but from my position there wasn't any way to get Brielle and the television screen into the same picture.

I'd been recording for a minute or so--long enough, I thought, to make a pretty good show--when she shrieked, grabbed a cushion from the couch, and pulled it between me and the naked part of her body. “What're you doing here, Brian?” she asked in a panic. Her face turned bright red. “You just left to go shopping. And what're you doing with your phone?”

Looking For Trouble