Savannah 10

"You're lying," Amanda snarled at Adam.

"I'm not, why would I?"

"Because you don't like me being with Fairfax."

"Amanda, the man is a lunatic. He's a monster and a tyrant."

"Don't be ridiculous. Adam. He's an army officer and the head of intelligence, he has to have a sharp side."

"Sharp, he's a fucking sadist, he tortures prisoners for fun."

"Adam, please stop, you've been drinking and you are getting worked up and becoming annoying, you're exaggerating."

"Amanda, darling," he said sitting beside her on the seat that ran the width of the window in the drawing room in her new home and taking both her hands in his. "Yes I have been drinking and yes I may be exaggerating, well at least quoting rumours, but he does interrogate prisoners himself for no other reason than he enjoys it. In his position he does not have to, he has experts who work for him to do that. Ask yourself why would he?"

That was a question that Amanda most certainly would not ask herself.

They were in her house on the Sunday after the White House reception. She had no appointments and had welcomed Adam inviting himself round after he had lunched with some cronies at a new, fashionable restaurant at Buzzard Point near the recently extended Navy Boat Yard. He was slightly drunk when he arrived.

Adam was feeling very guilty about having told Jayne about him and Amanda. He knew he should not have done that and that the information of them committing the illegal act of incest between brother and sister, and Amanda having had an abortion, would be powerful information in the wrong hands, perhaps Lennon's was his thinking. Not only could it be used to blackmail and compromise Amanda it could also lead to his and her arrest for neither crime was covered by a statute of limitations.

As she was not expecting anyone other than her brother, Amanda was dressed very casually. She was not using her frame or hoops and instead was dressed in what was becoming the fashion in Washington when ladies were either alone or only with other females. She was wearing a plain, loose skirt that did not reach the floor, but ended on her ankles and showed her feet in her stockings and shoes or boots: a display that just a few years ago would have been unthinkable. For comfort, she had dispensed with her corset and for coolness her petticoats and even her chemise. Under the skirt she was merely wearing her open front and rear drawers. Above her waist, she was wearing a thin, cotton bodice that reached down to her hips. That provided her ample breasts little support.

Amanda knew that her outfit was risqué. She would never have worn it in male company, even and in some ways especially, if it was her brother but she hadn't been expecting him. He had just turned up, something he was doing more often recently and that annoyed Amanda for she knew that sooner or later he would arrive as she was in bed with the General. As he had told her in his slightly drunken state about Lennon, she had seen him looking at her breasts and rear as the flesh moved and wobbled under the thin material. She was aware that Adam still had difficulty in containing his urge for her, as indeed she did hers for him. As her brother's eye roamed over her body in the, what would be considered by many as being, unconventional and by some unsuitable, dress her mind flashed back all those years to when she had first worn such an outfit in front of him.

She had been eighteen when anything had first happened. Of course before then there had been moments, stares, touches, stolen glances and times when it seemed as though something might happen. But both were frightened, as rightly they should have been. It was wrong. Blood relatives should not be intimate with each other and they should not have carnal feelings or, even more so relationships.

But this was the Deep South, taboos were different, standards and expectations were different.

They lived miles away from other children, they were cut off from contact with others, had hardly any friends and little chance of meeting boy or girl friends. The luxury of the huge mansion and almost town level of facilities of Selby Bluff where every whim they had was taken care of by their servants and slaves was not an effective alternative to living a 'normal' life.

They were rarely alone in the house. It was just not possible with thirty or so live in servants and probably a hundred slaves who attended to the household, which at the time was Florence and George, Adam and Amanda's parents, granny O'Rourke, Florence's mother, two widowed aunts and the two of them.

Unusually they were alone for a few days for the elders had all gone to a distant, but incredibly rich relative's funeral in Savannah and Adam and Amanda had been left in the good hands of the servants.

Their rooms were on the third floor. In a gesture that was by their father's, but not their mother's, view extremely liberal, an apartment had been created for the two children at one end of the third floor. They each had a bedroom, there was a sitting room, a small kitchen, a tiny dining room and a classroom where the tutor, the redoubtable and largely scorned by them, Mister Blount, had provided their early education. It was all due to Florence who held attitudes well beyond the times.

They were in the sitting room after they had eaten dinner; they were relaxed and alone.

"You know Adam, this is the very first time we have been alone in the house" Amanda had said for no other reason than curiosity as she walked towards her room.

"Oh yes, so it is," her brother said, stretching out on one of the two plum coloured, velvet covered chaises. He was wearing tight, white, wool trousers, a scarlet cummerbund and a white shirt that was open half way down his chest. He had removed his boots and was barefoot. Amanda thought he looked very handsome.

As had been her way ever since she was a child, Amanda had changed from her day clothes once dinner was finished. When the family were there she would say her goodnights to her parents, aunts and other guests, there was nearly always a few, go to their apartment and undress. The formality, awkwardness and sheer heat of her stockings, knickers, chemise, corset, petticoats, hoop frame and dress was oppressive and she could hardly wait to rid herself of them.

Knowing that she, if Adam was away or, if he was home, they would not be disturbed, for Florence insisted that everyone in the family should have their privacy, Amanda would don her nightwear. Usually a simple white, shift chemise type of cotton dress, with, when she was younger, long sleeves, but now short so her arms were almost bare, it reached to mid- calf. She wore nothing under it. However, as she and Adam got older, Florence suggested that she wear a shawl or bed jacket to cover her arms and that she keep her stockings on until she was alone in her bedroom.

Even her enlightened mother seemed to Amanda to have rather prudish views. In reality, though, it was not that which prompted Florence to make such suggestions, it was because she was aware of the 'temptations of the flesh' between people of their ages, even brothers and sisters. Florence was also acutely aware that incest was rife in the South and, although intellectually she was fairly neutral in her views as to the emotional aspects, she was highly concerned about the potential physical repercussions if 'things went wrong.'

As it was a particularly warm evening, Amanda had removed her stockings and hadn't bothered to button up the short bed jacket. Due to her nightdress being cut fairly low at the neck and was only ankle length, a fair expanse of her chest, her bare ankles and her feet were constantly on view to Adam. Although when he was younger he could recall seeing her bare arms, her chest above her chemise and her feet, it hit him hard when she came out of her room to the classroom where they were to study for now his sister was a woman.

Adam was standing behind the back of the chaise reading a book on Venetian art. He looked up and stared at his sister as she walked across the room towards the table. She was barefoot, the nightdress flapped around her bare ankles occasionally, or so it seemed on the short journey she made across the room, rising up and exposing her lower legs. The cotton clung to her. It clung to her knees, her upper legs, her thighs, hips and buttocks. But most of all he noticed, it clung to her bosom.

Adam had become more and more aware over the past year of his sister's breasts. She had reached the age where they, along with her hips fill out, become more rounded to give her the look of a woman and no longer a girl. It gave her, he thought, the shape and look of the many whores he had visited in Savannah.

As she walked across his line of sight he saw the fascinating movement of those globes of flesh that are so attractive and appealing to men whether they be exposed or covered as they were now. He imagined that he could see the shadow of his sister's areola and the outline of her nipples, but of course that was just in his mind. He could, though clearly see through the thin, slightly stretched cotton the outline of her upper legs, her rump and buttocks as they swayed and wiggled so wonderfully provocatively as she approached the table, bent forward and sat down. He was confused, worried, excited, concerned and very hard indeed.

"Are you okay, Adam?" Amanda asked looking over her shoulder

"Yes" he gulped.

"Are you sure, maybe I can get you some water?"

"No, I am fine."

They started their studies. Adam worked hard to contain his interest in his sister and his excitement that increased every time she moved and her breasts wobbled under the nightdress, but it was impossible and his erection reared all the way up his flat stomach in the tight trousers.

Having a progressive and liberal mother and a father who had hardly any interest in his children, they had been introduced to wine and mint juleps from an early age and were allowed to drink a couple of glasses each evening, usually a glass of white with dinner and port or red wine after it. Tonight had been no exception and they had drunk the sweet, white wine favoured by their father.

Whilst Amanda was allowed to drink wine, it was unthinkable that a lady would ever pour it, not even in front of her husband or brother.

"May I have a glass of port please, Adam?" Amanda suddenly asked.

'Oh shit,' Adam thought.

"Yes of course," he said moving from behind the cover of the chaise. His plan was to get to the bureau with his back to her and try to approach her from directly behind her. It almost worked, but when he was half way between the bureau and the safety of the table, Amanda suddenly pushed her chair back and stood up.

"I think I will have a biscuit with it, would you like....." she said stopping suddenly as her gaze dropped down her brother's body and she saw his erection. She was shocked, surprised and amazed but not revolted or horrified. Their eyes met.

"Sorry, Amanda" Adam groaned handing her the port.

She didn't know what to say, she didn't know how to handle such a situation. "Oh Adam," she whispered.

"Don't be annoyed sister, please don't be."

"I'm not," Amanda carried on in the same very quiet voice as neither of them moved.

"I can't help it."

"I know."

"And I am so sorry."

"Yes. Let me get the biscuits."

Nothing more was said that evening, but as they ate dinner together the next evening the atmosphere was so laden with sexual expectancy that it could have been cut with a knife. They had not seen each other during the day and had hardly spoken after the incident the night before. Both, however, had found the need to masturbate when they went to bed.

Amanda was still a virgin, but Adam had been taken to the Savannah whorehouses several times now and although he had not had a woman who wasn't paid for he was becoming quite experienced.

Amanda had little sexual experience, just a few kisses and twice hands on her breasts, but as one of those was her father she discounted that. She had never touched or seen a man's penis although she had seen drawings. She was hugely surprised at just how large Adam's looked inside his tight trousers for it seemed to reach right up to his waist. She masturbated wondering just what it would feel like in her hands and then inside her. He masturbated thinking about fucking his sister.

"I think I shall go to bed early tonight," Amanda said quite suddenly the next evening. She stood up dressed in the same clothing as the previous evening.

"No studying tonight?"

"No, I feel tired."

They stood looking at each other for a moment and although she was tempted to glance down her brother's body, she didn't.

"Look Amanda I don't really know how to say this."

She guessed that he was going to mention last evening. Smiling she reached forward and placed her fingertips on her brother's lips and said softly "Then don't."

As she reached forward her breasts jiggled strongly inside the night dress and the front gaped. Adam saw right down it. He saw her breasts, both of them, her full, soft, wobbly, creamy breasts and the delicate pink nipples. He couldn't stop himself and a low moan slipped from his mouth. Amanda knew immediately why. She quickly turned and skipped across the room calling out good night as she escaped to the safety of her own bedroom.

As she lay on her bed, she heard Adam moving around in the sitting room.

He didn't know what to do. He drank her port and poured another. He was so aroused. He rubbed his erection outside his trousers then slid his hand inside, that felt lovely. He lay back on the chaise and imagined his hand was Amanda's; he imagined it was her hand, her stomach, her breasts and her cunt, he imagined he was fucking her.

Amanda was so confused about her relationship with her brother. One moment worried at how 'bad' they were, the next so excited at what she had seen. One moment concerned about the taboo nature of what was happening between them, the next aroused at the prospect of 'something' happening. She had to talk to him, she needed to know more. She hated unanswered questions.

Getting up she quietly opened the door and walked into the room. They surprised each other. Adam was lying stretched out on the chaise, his hand inside his trousers, Amanda walked across the room in her sleeveless night dress, for she had removed the bed jacket. Her arms were bare, her chest was bare, her ankles and feet were bare and inside the white night dress her body moved, her breasts swayed and her buttocks jiggled and all of those were also bare.

Adam moaned, "Oh God," as he took his hand from inside his trousers.

"Adam we have to talk" Amanda said pushing his legs from the chaise and sitting down beside him.

He sat up just as Amanda turned towards him. His left arm and shoulder pressed right against her unfettered breasts inside the thin nightdress. They both gasped. "Oh Amanda," he groaned as the softness of her bosom seemed to wrap itself round his arm.

"Oh God" Amanda sighed the pressure of her brother's arm sending wonderful sensations through her.

For a moment neither of them moved, but then Adam, completely unconsciously let his left arm drop. His hand fell onto his sister's leg. They both felt the surge of sexual arousal race through their bodies. Their heads turned towards the other, they were so close, almost touching. He hadn't moved his hand, it was still resting on her leg mid-way between her knee and her groin; she had only had one boy or man touch her there before and she was amazed at just how erotic it felt. Adam had never touched a female other than a whore's bare leg before and he could hardly believe the feelings that surged through his body as his fingers caressed his sister's leg.

The feelings from his fingers and hand sent sexual shock waves up the inside of her leg directly, it felt to Amanda, to her clitoris. And with the soft shape of her upper thigh transmitting similar feelings directly to his cock, they both sat there transfixed staring into each other's eyes. Slowly, almost imperceptibly their face moved towards the other just as if being drawn by a magnet. And then they kissed, at last they kissed, after all the time they had wanted to, they kissed each other.

It was soft, gentle and enquiring at first, but then their mouths simply exploded. Their lips parted, they squirmed and writhed and their tongues as if with minds of their own plunged into the others mouth. It went on and on.

Amanda had rarely been kissed like this before. She had never felt anything like this before. Neither she nor her brother had ever experienced anything like this before. The rush of sensations that surged through both of them made her feel dizzy and made Adam realise the difference between sex without affection or meaning and sex with it. The power of the sensations that enveloped him made him moan and cry out.

His arms round her, he pushed her back into the corner of the chaise and laid half on top and half beside her as they continued their fervent so passionate kiss.

"Oh Adam, Adam," Amanda groaned almost sobbing.

"Yes my darling, yes."

"This is wrong."

"No it's right, it is so wonderful it can't be wrong."

"Oh God."

They kissed again, but of course it could not stop there, that was impossibile. Adam's hand found her breast. Her body jumped as he squeezed gently.

"No Adam, no," Amanda moaned, knowing that it was said without conviction for she had no conviction about stopping. She wanted more, but she didn't know what she wanted for it was totally uncharted territory for her.

"Yes Amanda, yes" he groaned kneading the surprisingly full globe of his sister's breast through the thin material.

"Oh Jesus, oh God, oh yes," Amanda could not stop herself groaning, so strong were the feelings that her brother was giving her. "No, no" she cried as he tried to push the strap of her nightdress off her shoulder.

Even in her highly aroused state, the idea of her brother seeing her naked breasts seemed unthinkable, or was it? She grabbed his wrist and stopped him, but he pushed, she resisted, he pushed harder and at the same time, possibly inadvertently but certainly persuasively, crushed his erection against the top of her leg. It was like a rocket going off inside her.

"Oh, oh, oh," she sighed letting her hand fall from Adam's wrist.

He pulled the strap away along her shoulder, round the joint and down her arm taking the bodice of the dress with it. Slowly, wonderfully and amazingly erotically the full, naked glory of his sister's left breast was revealed to his lustful, loving gaze.

Amanda was perplexed. She couldn't believe what they were doing, she knew it was said to be wrong, a sin, a taboo and was probably illegal. But how could something as beautiful as this be so wrong? How could such pleasure, such love, such tenderness and such sensitivity be illegal?

"Oh Amanda, your breast is so beautiful," Adam sighed running his fingertips up the slope of the mound and across the clearly hardened nipple, sending even more waves of sensual sensations through her. His hands went to the other strap, but again Amanda resisted. "No Amanda, you can't stop me now," he whispered.

He was correct. This time the resistance was only perfunctory for her arousal and the need to feed that far outweighed her reservations and inhibitions.

As Adam peeled the other strap away from her and pulled the front of the nightdress down, Amanda suddenly realised that this was precisely what she wanted, what she needed and what she desired. She wanted her brother to see her breasts yes, she recognised to herself, she wanted to flaunt her body at him.

They kissed more, lots more, it was amazing. He kissed her mouth, her lips, her chin, her neck, her shoulders, her chest and then most wonderfully her breasts. He licked and kissed them, every inch of them and then her areola and nipples. He pushed the two lovely orbs together and one after the other he sucked her nipples. That made Amanda climaxc which in turn made her emotions explode. She started to sob uncontrollably.