Jennifer Griffiths drew back the curtains and looked over the expanse of lawn stretching almost as far as she could see. There had been a heavy frost during the night but it was melting in the morning sun, and she saw it was going to be a beautiful day.
She turned to the room behind her and smiled at the discarded clothes strewn around it. They told a story - silent witnesses to the events of last night. David's shirt lay by the open door, and his pants next to the sofa. Her clothes were more widely scattered: her blouse a puddle of blue by the table and her panties hanging from a chair. She recalled the feel of her brother's cock sliding into her and experienced the same guilty jolt of pleasure that she always did when she committed incest.
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