You are currently browsing the Archive category

Snooks

  • Posted on December 10, 2017 at 7:20 am

By Shay

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

My older sister is blonde. Blonde like… sunrise, like butter melting on a pancake fresh off the griddle, blonde like Heaven. She actually got hired to be gorgeous for a hair product ad. She wore black hi-tops and white blouses with vests. She had a voice like a running stream in spring, like a lullaby. And she could be snotty as hell, and funny.

Me? I am dark, like a little woodland creature coming out under the stars to move silently through the grass. I am dark like the notes of a cello, like blackberry jam, like Halloween.

We were the sun and the moon, my sister and I. Light and dark, the shine and the shadow.

Once we were in our room, Helen working on some homework — exotic, incomprehensible homework for 11th graders! — and I was planted on my bed staring into a candle flame, hoping the meaning from the poetry books on the shelf built into the headboard would melt and somehow enter my blood, making me arty and deep.

Suddenly, she sighed dramatically and closed the book with a bang. “This is simmmmmmply too dull!” she announced in a put-on English accent. “Snooker, let’s get us a bottle of wine… let’s become concubines. Let’s…” She searched for another ridiculous pursuit, then dissolved into sweet laughter. She shrugged and grinned at me, swiveling in her desk chair. Then she got up and, with one foot springing off the floor, landed resoundingly on my bed.

“Ohhhhh Snooker, always so serious!” she teased, tracing a perfectly manicured finger along my cheek and mock-scowling. “I vant to become a poet and shtick my head in der oven!” With that, she laughed at her own clowning and fell back on the bed.

How could she look so good in gray sweats? I could see her soft full breasts move under her sweatshirt as she fell back. I would have gladly forsworn poetry or anything else, for life, to be allowed to feel her in my hands. To kiss her all over.

Helen reached over and switched on our tape player. “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,” filled the room, and she got up and danced, full of joy at simply being herself. Something so foreign to me. I watched her as pale, lonely astronomers must watch distant constellations, full of admiration and awe, longing, excitement. And the certain knowledge of never touching their beloved.

The song changed to, “And We Danced,” and she took my hands in hers. “C’monnnnn, Snooks… you’re about as much fun as a box of rocks.”

I wouldn’t let her pull me up. If I get up and dance with her… well, better to stay on my side of the telescope, I thought. Why pursue what I can never catch?

So, my beautiful big sister sat down again, next to me, the bed dipping slightly as her light body settled onto it. She was breathless, warm and close and my mouth went dry and I suddenly couldn’t begin to guess what to do with my hands. I swallowed, though I had no spit. I could feel her breath on my throat as she turned her head my way.

Then she leaned over, behind me to get something off my shelf, snatched from the gloom of the poetry books made lovely simply by being nestled in her perfect hand. Her body had pressed against my lower back as she had reached for it. And then she smoothly trailed herself against me as she sat up.

“What’s this?” she asked, her gray eyes widening like a cat considering a canary, as she plucked the small red cylinder from the shelf. “OOooo, it’s flavored lip gloss, you hussy. Let me try it.”

Of course, Her Major Majesty didn’t wait for any sort of permission from me before applying her strawberry flavored lip gloss to her lips.

“Okay, c’mere, Miss Marple — tell me if it really tastes like strawberries.” She tilted her face towards mine like a girl with a parasol on some old-fashioned greeting card.

I reached for the little lip gloss, but she quickly hid it behind her back. “Noooo, taste it and tell me.”

I realized what she meant and felt a shiver of sweet dread pass over me.

“C’monnnn, Snooks… I don’t bite.”

So I tasted my big sister’s lips. She was still a little breathless from dancing, and the sleeve of her sweatshirt was soft under my fingers as I tasted her lips like some blue-black butterfly shooting up into the sunlight after eternity in a dark cocoon. I let my tongue trail over her upper lip and closed mine softly around her lower lip before pulling slowly away and licking the taste from myself and announcing in a shaky voice that yes, it did taste like fruit. Forbidden fruit, delicious fruit, though I didn’t say that part aloud.

And then she leaned in and put her hand behind my head and drew me back to her. She looked back and forth quickly into my eyes and then she kissed me. All at once my adored older sister, Miss Too-Cool, the Sun Queen herself was kissing me and her warm soft body was melting against mine.

Well. A little noise came up from me, a noise like the dungeon-dweller might make as she discovers that the barred door she has tested a thousand times has this time swung wide open. And then I was crying. And kissing Helen, I mean really kissing her. Something broke inside me and I slipped my arms up and around her, holding her in my arms like a holy book.

We kissed, sweetly, not innocently for… well, for long enough, for my lips to become bruised and my thoughts to disappear, my mind registering only the bliss of kissing Helen, again and again and —ohhhhhh yessss — again!

Finally, I settled my chin on her shoulder with my cheek to her hair, and we held each other as the candle burned, filling the room with the scent of peaches. My tears fell in her golden hair like rain when the sun is out, and we breathed hard in each other’s embrace.

I drew back and looked in her eyes and saw my own vulnerability and joy reflected there. Something inside me leapt from its cage at that moment and I ran my hands up beneath my older sister’s sweatshirt with a sureness I hadn’t known I possessed. Her breasts felt like warm paradise to me as I gently squeezed them and ran my thumbs across her nipples, feeling them grow as I did. Sis was smiling, the corners of her mouth turned up in triumph and tenderness as I felt her.

I lowered my face to her chest and took a nipple between my lips as I heard her moan softly, feeling her body arch to increase the closeness between us. I licked and sucked and kissed her there until she was squirming and panting and grabbing my dark curls.

I kissed my way down her tummy, my hands cupping her breasts as I did. Mmmm, so soft and inviting. A thought came out of nowhere and sent a wicked thrill through me; what if she was pregnant? What if we were older, and she was married, but I had come over in the afternoon to make love to her, and she had told me she was pregnant? I kissed her belly fervently, breath rushing through my nostrils as I worshiped her.

I knelt on the carpet, in our room we had shared for years, where stuffed toys still stood guard over us in our sleep, and hooked my fingers into her sweatpants and began pulling. She lifted her hips for me and I leaned in and put my face to her center, my cheek against her panties, breathing in her scent like a castaway would sniff the air of an island paradise. Helen growled softly and traced her fingertips over my ears. I drew off her underwear and sweatpants all in one long smooth motion, leaving her beautiful and naked on my bed.

I held her thigh in my hands and kissed it with reverence, kissing my way up, ever further towards where I’d been. Just before I kissed her folds for the first time, I said, “I love you.”

“I know, Snooks… God, I know.” She parted her legs for me and I melted inside.

I kissed her lips below as I had the lips on her mouth a few minutes earlier… sucking and pulling lightly, capturing them, releasing, tasting. Then I teased her clitoris out with my tongue and she lay on her back on my bed, grabbing fistfuls of blankets in her delicate hands as I pleasured her.

Absurdly, I thought of something I had heard in class, that sisters are closer to each other genetically than anyone else. I closed my mouth over her and licked. She shuddered and sighed. I would have been more than happy to stay there and kiss Helen, my big sister, this way for eternity, keenly aware of her taste, her joy, my own humming body and the sweet beautiful thing that had come to life between us. But then Helen’s light lovely body went rigid and still, and for just a moment I thought something was wrong. Then she lifted slightly off the bed and with a gorgeous sound of animal pleasure, began to buck and thrash. I held on to her hips and stayed with her, lost in my sister’s joy.

After she subsided, I tenderly kissed her clitoris, then turned my face to rest my cheek on her wetness as she gently stroked my hair. Later, as shadows filled the room and the candle burned down to just a glow, I snuggled up to her and kissed her, long and lingering, then lay my head on her breast and we slept.

I dreamt that she was a white dove flying outlined against the summer sun, and that I was her shadow, running along the ground. But then, in the way of dreams, the shadow — me — became a bird herself, a red-winged blackbird, and I flew up to join her. We flew that way together, the light and the dark, the sun and the moon, but ever and forever lovers and, oh yes, sisters.

The End

Another Night Wasted, Chapter 5

  • Posted on December 9, 2017 at 9:30 am

By Jane Doe

Jen
Why does she keep staring at us like that? I mean, I know why she’s staring, but why won’t she stop? Peeking out briefly I can see Lucy growing more animated, as if her hands could say something her mouth wasn’t up to. But her eyes are still glued to us, open to roughly the size of dinner plates. I swear to god she’ll be drooling in a minute if she doesn’t stop.

I curl back in against Lana, letting out a soft groan. I nibble lightly on her skin as I hide my face against her neck, my own weak kind of vengeance. I feel more than hear her sigh softly and she gives me a gentle squeeze.

“C’mon, Jen, no need to hide. Lu is the one over there drooling on herself. She’s the one that should be ashamed.” Lana’s gently chiding voice and obvious amusement with Lucy’s reaction prompts me to peek out once again, just in time to see Lucy straighten up indignantly, almost pouting.

“I am not drooling. I’m just—”

“Trying to catch a few flies in your mouth?” I can’t help but interrupt. Lana giggles as I hide from Lucy’s glare, once again sheltering in the safety of my sister’s arms.

“Don’t make me steal your towel, little girl!” Knowing Lucy, she might follow through on that one.

I cower behind Lana for a moment, then dart to my closet, discretion being the better part of valor and all. It’s time to get at least some semblance of clothes on.

*****

Lucy
Holy fucking god damn. I can’t believe I just saw that. Lana and Jen? Hot. Way fucking hot.

How long has this been going on? Soooo many questions. No time like the present for asking, I guess. My eyes stay glued on Jen over by her closet as I whip out my cell to make a few calls and she pulls on… Oh dear god, my cell is momentarily forgotten, as she pulls up what looked to be a pair of black panties. It’s only as they stretch and cling to her ass that it becomes obvious they’re not silk or cotton or anything of the sort, but a filmy mesh. It’s a total letdown when the towel drops back down to cover that tight little butt of hers, but the disappointment is only for a couple of seconds. Katie’s voice is lost in my ear as the towel falls to the floor, giving me an eyeful not only of her — how to say it, accentuated ass — but the gentle curve of her back and side, her long, milky white thighs and everything above and below. Her skin still glistens with a slight sheen of dampness and it takes a light smack on the back of my head from Lana to break me out of my reverie.

Hot fucking damn. Now I know why guys always want to watch. I mean, I know I get a bit overboard with the sex drive at times, but looking at the two of them — Lana so reserved, such a sweet, kind, gentle girl; and Jen, crazy little creature, passionate and almost smoldering at times. I’ve never had friends like them, much less friends like them who are apparently sleeping together. They’re both so different, gorgeous and sexy in entirely contrasting ways — just the way they look at one another. I’m going to need a cold shower if I keep thinking about this.

Back to my calls…

*****

Lana
Once Lu tore her eyes off of Jen, she got up and wandered out — had enough of being distracted, maybe? I can’t help but cross the room to my little sis and wrap my arms around her waist, pulling her back against me after she’s pulled a t-shirt on. I give her a sly little grin and lay a few kisses along the back of her neck.

“You’re mean, doing that to poor Lu, ya know?”

“Doing what? I needed to get dressed.” She leans back against me, laying one of her arms over mine and turning her head to beg a kiss, eyes pleading and lips pouting until they’re met with my own. I can feel her body loosen, relaxing at the intimate touch of my mouth, her lips parting mine as she takes it deeper, slipping her tongue in to dance with my own, turning in my arms to face me and sliding her arms around my neck.

My heart could almost burst with the love I feel for her, and the heat rising in my lower belly tells me how much I want her as well. How could I have missed this? So close and so perfect, and now that I’ve found it I can only feel bad for the poor boys out there that will miss out on dating my Jen. I pull back and break the kiss before I lose the will to do so, smiling into her eyes and willing my sister to feel how much she means to me.

“Well, yeah, but not necessarily right in front of her. You’re going to get her all hot and bothered, and then she’ll have to find some poor boy to take it out on.” My smile breaks into a grin as she rolls her eyes.

“Oh yeah, poor, poor boy. I’m sure he’ll be crying for weeks afterwards.”

“Only because he won’t be able to keep her.” We both giggle and her head finds a resting place on my shoulder, her face buried against my neck. I can’t do anything but sigh softly, letting my satisfaction have a voice for a short moment, and hold her close. I want her to be my lover, and for the first time in the short sexually aware period of my life, I have absolutely no reservations about the who or where or when of it. My first time will be with her, and that’s all that matters. I’m so fucked up. But once again, that’s okay, because she is too. I can’t imagine what it was like for her feeling this way and having no idea if I would ever feel the same thing for her — it must have been torture.

“Okay, Stop it, you two! If you don’t, I’m going to have to strip you both down right here and have my way with the pair of ya!” Lucy, mistress of the innuendo entrance. “We’re going out, and you girls have some explaining to do. I want all the dirty details and a schedule for continuation.” She grins and points out the door. “But first, Lana, shower. Now. Can’t have you smelling like stale sex for the rest of the day.”

I can’t help but laugh at her business-like manner, and I don’t think I can really argue either. So I just shake my head and smile, letting go of Jen and obediently heading off to the shower.

*****

Jen
The red is so deep, so livid. It’s like a horrid mockery of the normally subtle hues of Lana’s hair. But it doesn’t stop at her hair, it streaks down over her face, her skin deathly white against those red gashes. She looks so cold.

The silence reigns supreme, I try to scream but no sound mars this horrible scene. She’s dead, I know it. I sob and cry and clutch her to me, shouting for help, cursing whatever god brought her so low… and then… I kiss her.

My lips meld with hers. She’s so cold. And like in a fairy tale, I feel her stir…

I wake up, shivering, even under the warm covers. Shivering, even though Lana is curled in against me, breath slow and steady in sleep. I lay there for quite some time, listening to her breathe, feeling her presence, the warmth of her against me. Not cold and bloody and dead, but wonderfully alive… and mine.

Slowly, I draw myself up, careful to leave her undisturbed, and peer at the clock. 4:00 a.m. Or close enough. I guess bad dreams can strike even the happiest of sleepers. With the phantoms of sleep leaving my head, I carefully rise from the bed to peer out the window at the darkened street. Time for a smoke; it’s been too long since I’ve had a night to think.

Perhaps it’s not such a bad thing, waking like this. I’d almost forgotten the quiet wonderment of the world at night, when everyone else sleeps. The shadows the moon throws when her mood is right, the silent hum of a world full of electric appliances, water heaters and furnaces, always running. The comforts of modern life keeping the dreamers safe and comfortable in their beds. The sky so vast, one can only imagine the other worlds out there. The galaxies spinning in the darkness, each isolated amongst so many others of their own kind. I wonder if they ever collide? Do stars and planets by the millions, or billions even, go crashing into one another, destroying what once was, to create something new? And do they occasionally come together more peacefully, timeless spinnings in tune with one another, slowly melding over eons?

Looking at Lana’s slumbering form, now half rolled onto her back, even in the grips of her dreams seeking me as much as I ever sought her, I think they just might come together like that, once in a great while.

Yes, perhaps it’s not really so bad, being a phantom myself now and again. Clinging to the lines between sleeping and waking, night and day. Being a ghost, seeing but unseen, watching over the world so different under the night sky than it is under the sun.

Man, waking up from a dream like that makes me weird.

I slowly shake my head as I haul open the window, but quietly — to awaken that sleeping beauty now would be almost criminal. Pulling on my hoodie and climbing out onto the roof, I fish a cigarette out of the pack and light it, taking a long drag and feeling the smoke clear away the last of the cobwebs. Time to think. Dad always says people need their quiet time, and on that issue I won’t argue with him.

What a weird day, no wonder I had weird dreams. Lucy showing up to get Lana out and back on the dating scene, Lana… well… telling her, I guess. The afternoon in the back corner of a smoky coffee shop, talking in hushed voices, listening to Lana share her side of the story, then having to divulge my own. I didn’t do it for Lucy, of course. I mean, it was nice having an outsider there, someone other than Lana and myself, really, just being able to tell someone, to tell another human being: “I’m in love with my big sister,” and have them… well… exalt in it, in her own weird way. Lu’s a strange one, to be sure, but it was wonderful to have someone as excited about it as we are sit and listen. But mostly I did it for Lana. We hadn’t really talked about it, not entirely. Bits and pieces here and there, but we never sat down and told one another how we decided that not only were the feelings there, but they were worth acting on.

I could feel her eyes on me the entire time I spoke, telling all, every last little thing I could remember, everything that made me fall in love with her, the way people say siblings never should. I don’t even remember most of what I said now, it was just a torrent of words, images, feelings, making them understand these things. And when I was done, Lana just hugged me. She pulled me close and held me for quite a while, kissing my hair and nuzzling my head as we each got the third degree from Lu.

She should work for the feds or something. No detail left unscrutinized, no casual turn of phrase or ambiguity left without clarification. Lana finally broke down laughing and threatened to never speak of it again unless Lucy stopped being so anal about everything. It makes me think Lu would be dangerous with a journalism degree as well. The hunger in her dark eyes, the need to know, it was kind of sexy to be honest. I’d never seen her as having much of a brain before, but I guess it just goes to show that, in a lot of ways, my big sis is a much better judge of character than I am. Not that I ever doubted it.

As I sit and think it over, I watch the moon slowly set, sliding her way down the vault of the sky, slipping into the depths of some younger night. Only the stars are left burning, holding watch until the gray shadows assert themselves, as if to prepare the world for the coming of the sun. As that great orb begins its stately ascent, I slip back inside, away from its glare and pompous ways. I can’t help but think of the sun like that, some vast prima donna, never allowing any other to share its stage.

My eyes slip back to the form laying supine on the bed, I can’t help but smile to see her gazing back at me.

*****

Lana
It took me a moment to figure out what was wrong, to realize that I’m alone in bed. Rolling onto my back, I can see the first light of dawn leaking in. I can’t help but wonder how the hell she can wake up so early on a Sunday, but be such a pain to rouse during the week. Seeing her come slipping back in through the window, wearing only her hoodie over t-shirt and panties, my irritation fades. Watching her stare back out the window with that thoughtful look on her face, the calm look of contemplation broken by her habit of chewing lightly on her lower lip, making her appear just a touch younger than she would like to be considered.

Then those lovely eyes are drawn over to me, and with the strange light of these wee hours on one side of her face and the other side in shadow, she looks to me like a goddess of the dawn, calling me from the slumber that had nearly consumed me since Mom died. Returning her glorious smile, I reach out a hand to her, beckoning her over to the bed, to her place beside me.

Pulling her down, I kiss her softly, lightly at first, playing my tongue along her lips briefly. They part, allowing me entrance. I plunge in, twining my tongue with hers, our lips and mouths dancing in a wordless communication of desire, of need. My hands slide up into her hair, feeling its silky softness and I drink in the taste and smell, lightly smoky, definitely her.

It’s intoxicating, knowing her, feeling her like this. Her body is slightly chilled but warming quickly against my own, her flesh responding to the heat rising from the depths of my body and washing through my entire being, heartbeats quickening as one.

Slowly dragging down the zipper of her jacket and twining my legs with hers, I have to stifle the urge to just strip her as quickly as possible, to feel her against me in all ways, all places. I fight the urge because I want to savor everything, each moment, each touch, breath and kiss. Her fingertips leave trails of fire on my skin, heat that causes my nipples and groin, all of my most sensitive places, to ache with longing.

This is how it should be. This is how I’ve always wanted it to be. Maybe not for everyone, but for me. I can only hope she feels the same. In my heart, I know she does.

Pushing the jacket off her shoulders, I shift slightly to move my mouth down along her neck and over the newly exposed skin as she lets out light gasps and moans, her hands traveling over my sides and back, across my stomach, anywhere they can reach. Sliding an arm under her, I lift her to rid her of her hoodie. I pull her clingy, soft cotton tee up to expose her flat, smooth stomach. I cannot resist the allure of her navel. Dipping down as I ease her back to nibble it, letting my tongue circle and dip into its depths in pantomime of a much more intimate act. Her fingers slide through my hair, gripping now and again as I shift on top of her, slowly making my way up over her stomach and ribs, pushing her shirt up higher to expose the lovely, perfect mounds of her breasts.

Licking and biting at the soft undersides of them, each in turn, working my way up to first delicately, and then more roughly, suckle and nip at the now rock-hard buds of her nipples. Eliciting murmurs and moans as well as soft gasps. Her cries are as music to my ears, spurring me on as my hands trail up her thighs, feeling the taut muscles tremble beneath her skin.

Pulling back, I kneel between her thighs, looking down at her despite her soft groan of protest, fixing her in my memory, keeping this moment in the golden light of dawn, making it mine and hers. Then I slide my arms under her knees, reaching up and hooking her panties, drawing them down as she lifts her hips to aid me. She smiles as I hold them for a moment, raising them to smell the wet spot that was growing on them, to take in the scent of her arousal… I don’t think I’ve ever smelled anything so wonderful, such a heady, musky, slightly tangy scent.

I can see the gorgeous glistening between her thighs as she sits up, wrapping me in her arms and pulling my night shirt up, briefly twisting it as it comes, locking my arms up and over my head, covering my eyes so all I can see is the faint light filtering through the fabric. I can feel her breath only a moment before her mouth locks over one of my nipples, sucking greedily, sending a delicious chill down my spine. Restrained, blind and at her mercy. It’s all I can do to stifle a cry as I feel her hand slide down into my panties, her fingers sliding over my mound and dipping into my own wetness, making my legs feel weak as I shudder at the minor explosion of pleasure in the back of my brain.

Her grip on the shirt releases and her newly free hand begins roaming again. I throw off the shirt, wrapping her in my arms, I pull her up to me to meet her mouth with my own, locking our mouths together in desperate desire. Her fingers sliding the length of my slit, passing over my hardened clit and dipping lightly inside I utter a soft cry, one of my hands seeking out her wetness as well. I never imagined it like this, so soft, incredibly slick and warm and welcoming, the nub of her little pearl so obvious and begging for ministrations and her heated depths seemingly sucking my fingers in.

She lets out a cry of dismay and surprise as I push her away, knowing suddenly what it is I want. Shifting with a quickness I didn’t know I had, I lay myself beside her, my cheek on her thigh as I pull her hip up, nearly forcing her onto her side and kissing her between her thighs, pushing those lips wide and letting my tongue plumb her depths. I hear her cry out and nearly sob with the sudden shock of it, and then I feel her grip my ass and begin a similarly fevered assault. Fingers replacing my tongue inside her, my jaw and lips quivering as near constant moans escape them I feel driven by this rush, this heat and near insanity to devour my sister, drink in all that I can and leave none to waste.

Our moans and cries build in unison, mirroring one another’s pace and frenzied energy, until everything in an instant seems to go pure white, an explosion, a convulsion of something so pure, so primal, all thought ceases, and then fades to black.

*****

Jen
Our shuddering orgasms hit at nearly the same instant, mine lagging half a second, but as I heard and felt her come, the swift, hard undulations inside her, the near squirt of fluid streaming into my mouth, her guttural cry of unloosed pleasure, I couldn’t even think of holding back another instant. To feel that mind-numbing ecstasy, and know that she brought it on, this is heaven.

It’s a labor to catch my breath, to form coherent thoughts, to do anything other than drift in the afterglow…

But after a moment I realize she’s not moving. Panic stabs deep into my psyche as I untangle myself from her legs and gather her to me, holding her, calling to her but she’s as limp and lifeless as that horrible morning.

And as her eyes slowly open and she smiles up at me, the most beautiful, crazy smile I’ve ever seen, I can’t help but think, it is just like that morning. Overreacting, as always. Leaning down to kiss her deeply, I laugh as soon as our lips part.

“Jen?” She’s still smiling as she gazes dreamily up at me.

“Yeah, Lana?” What can I do but smile back? The panic gone, I feel giddy and higher than I ever have been before.

“I love you.”

“I love you too… crazy woman.” Her smile widens at that, and she happily snuggles against me again.

“Okay… now let’s get some more sleep.”

The End

Intimate Flowers, Part One

  • Posted on December 8, 2017 at 11:31 am

By Christene

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

Carmen could have been anything she wanted to be. It was written in the stars just as clearly as it sparkled inside her confident brown eyes. The thing that had called to her so persuasively had been law. When most little girls played with dolls, Carmen toted her father’s old briefcase from room to room, pretending that she was on the verge of cracking her next big case.

Unlike many dreamy young girls, she didn’t imagine herself hearing the cheers of an audience after a stunning performance in her breakout role. She was the little girl who fantasized about cheers of a different variety. The applause came after she had saved her client with dramatically convincing flair.

The clarity with which Carmen envisioned that future meant that it had no choice but to become a reality. Whatever Carmen focused her attentions on did not stand a chance. It was just in her nature to obtain whatever she desired. After all, she was the passionate daughter of a Mexican father and a Spanish mother.

“Fire,” her father had always told her, “runs in your blood.” Perhaps it was true, because it would seem that throughout Carmen’s life, that fire, that passion she had for things scorched everything she threw herself into.

At thirty-two, Carmen Cruz was leaps and bounds ahead of where so many others in her law firm had been at that age. It was a fact that was earning her top dollar, but more importantly, it was earning her quite the reputation as a legal powerhouse.

*****

The beautiful lawyer reviewed the document spread out before her. She did not notice the way that the incline of her head had caused her long brown hair to spill around her focused face. In the afternoon light, her dark olive skin was sultry and warm. Within the grips of summer, it glowed with a captivating warmth like a rich cinnamon or smooth caramel.

Slowly, she closed the file then rose from behind the large desk in her corner office. Behind her, the views of California were something to be envied. Normally, Carmen might enjoy taking the opportunity to revel in the omnipotent view, but she had something far more pressing on her mind.

A memory came rushing in to blind her of her surroundings.

“I’m tired, Carmen,” her girlfriend sighed.

“Of what?” Carmen asked in confusion. The way Meredith refused to meet her eyes told her all she needed to know.

“Of us,” she thought bleakly.

“I don’t understand,” Carmen said, again finding her voice. “Don’t I treat you well?”

“Of course, you do,” Meredith sighed again. “But that’s not what I meant.”

“Then what?” Carmen felt herself reeling. Of course, she knew that they’d had their problems, but what couple didn’t? Were those problems really worth ending a three-year relationship over?

Meredith lowered her eyes to the floor. “I’m not sure what it is. I just know that something isn’t right here. We aren’t right.” It came as a bitter realization, making her voice wobble. “Sometimes I just feel like your heart is somewhere else.”

It had been those last words that lingered with Carmen most. She returned to the moment with a slight jolt. With a faraway expression, she gathered her things. If her heart was not with Meredith, then where was it? she wondered.

She suddenly slammed her hands against the surface of her desk. The intensity of that gesture snapped her out of these thoughts. She was about to attempt patching things up with Meredith. She couldn’t possibly hope to do that if her mind wasn’t in it.

“Snap out of it, Carmen,” she grumbled to herself.

The lawyer gathered the last of her things before she left her office.

As she entered the office area just outside of her own, she smiled graciously to her secretary, who was also wrapping up her day on this early Friday afternoon. The glint in the woman’s eyes said that she was all too happy to enjoy the half-day that Carmen had given her.

Jennifer quickly offered her boss the airline tickets she’d asked for, as well as the information on her romantic week on Paradise Island in the Bahamas. “Have a wonderful vacation, Ms. Cruz,” the receptionist said warmly.

Carmen smiled with a friendly wave. “You too, Jennifer,” she said.

“And good luck,” Jennifer called after Carmen just before the woman in black slipped out the door.

Jennifer stared after her for a lengthy moment. She had worked with Carmen since she had joined the firm. She respected her. Truth be told, she liked her — and how often can a person actually say that about their boss? But she had noticed a change in Carmen within the last few weeks. The dark-haired lawyer seemed sad. Of course on the few occasions Jennifer had attempted to bring it up, Carmen had merely flashed her trademark smile while assuring her that everything was perfectly fine.

Jennifer wondered if she could believe Carmen’s smile. She sighed, then set the phones to roll over to voice-mail, completely unaware that just then an important phone call had come in.

*****

“Carmen, it’s me.” Sigh. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking — God, I hate doing this on your voice-mail, but your cell is turned off or something. Look, if we can’t bring some life back into this relationship, it’s over. I just don’t have it in me to keep going like this. I’ll be waiting at my condo tonight. If you don’t show, then I’ll know we’re through.”

*****

Carmen slipped from behind the wheel of her sleek convertible. The black car was so much like the suit adorning her hourglass figure. She had a certain standard she enjoyed. The successful attorney reveled in the finer things in life, settled for nothing less. It was a fact that presented itself in every aspect of her person. From designer suits to expensive cars, it was all part of her plan. It was what made Carmen’s passionate brown eyes burn with a zeal for life. Anything less simply would not be permitted. It didn’t fit into her mapped-out world.

She sighed, closing her car door with a bit of a slam. Carmen ran her fingers through her long dark hair. My plans, she thought sadly. The truth was that lately her plans didn’t seem to be going as she would hope. That was the reason she was here now. She was attempting to salvage the relationship which was three years into its painful demise. If this didn’t work, she didn’t see any other way than to just end it and put it out of its misery.

It wasn’t as if Meredith was a bad woman. She wasn’t at all. In fact, Meredith was wonderful. She was romantic. She was beautiful. She was intelligent. She was all the things that people looked for in a partner. Carmen just wasn’t sure if Meredith was all the things that she wanted in a partner. Somehow they had begun to drift apart before either of them had realized it.

The sensual Latina sauntered away from her car, absently clicking the alarm. She heard it give a chirped goodbye. Her heels made crisp sounds against the pavement as she drew closer to the florist’s door. She extended a delicate hand, but stopped when a young man hurried to catch the door for her.

She surveyed him for a moment from behind her dark sunglasses before her full lips broke into a slow-forming smile. Carmen dipped her head in thanks, then entered the floral shop while the young man released the door and left, feeling a bit spellbound.

Standing in the heart of the shop, she was overcome by its aromatic scent. She reached up her hand, slowly removing her glasses. Her intense eyes scoured the horizon, taking in the vibrant flowers. Her head tilted in quiet observation. She slowly folded her glasses within her right hand then tucked them into her small purse.

As Carmen drew nearer to an exotic bouquet of black tulips, she smiled. Her sister loved Queen of the Nights.

“May I help you?” a woman asked as she sidled up to Carmen. Her youthful face was hopeful.

Carmen turned her head toward the woman and flashed her an alluring smile. “Yes,” she said. Her voice was rich, like the warm coloring of her skin. “I need a bouquet of your most beautiful red and orange roses,” she instructed gently.

The young woman smiled knowingly. “Ah, a fiery bouquet,” she said.

Carmen nodded, pleased that the florist understood her desire for a passionate message. She had to attempt to infuse her relationship with the heat that it had teemed with in the beginning. Her hope was that this romantic rendezvous would be the start of many more to come.

The florist turned, making her way toward the register at the front of the store. “Can I get you anything else?”

Carmen felt a tugging at something deep inside her. She paused, then looked once more to the wistfully romantic tulips. Something in their beauty reminded her of her sister. She felt a pang in her chest.

Alejandra was another aspect of her life that did not seem to be going well. Her sister was her best friend and soon, she would be leaving California to begin nurturing her career on the east coast.

Carmen was naturally happy for her sister’s success, but she hated the thought of Alejandra being so far away. With those thoughts swirling throughout her mind, her decision was made.

“Yes, actually,” she said. “I would also like a bouquet of Queen of the Night tulips with lavender roses.”

The florist regarded Carmen with a gentle air. She smiled softly. “An excellent choice,” she said. “Is there a special occasion?”

Carmen could only smile. It was a wry smile as if she alone held the secrets to the mysteries of the world. Her brown eyes stared through the thickness of her lashes before she broke their spell upon the blushing florist.

Daintily, Carmen’s fingers perused the small cards on display. She clasped hold of a very simple card with a flowing script saying, I need you. It seemed a bit modest, but it couldn’t possibly be more true to her feelings. For a fleeting moment, she wondered: Or is it?

That feeling of doubt was squashed beneath her clarity while regarding the next card. Missing you. There was so much she wished to tell Alejandra, but no card could ever convey what her sister would be able to read so clearly in her eyes. Alejandra could always tell what hidden truths existed just beneath the surface when so many others fell victim to Carmen’s smile.

Carmen gave the florist her information, then instructed the deliveries to be made at both her girlfriend’s condo and her sister’s house.

“Here you go,” the florist said. She offered up a pen. “For your cards.”

Carmen accepted the pen, then set it to expressing what she felt.

Beneath I need you, she wrote every sensually erotic longing she possessed for her lover. She struggled to fit the messages onto both the front and back of the small mauve card. She ended with instructions for Meredith to meet her at the airport and, finally, the time of their flight. Gently, Carmen pushed the card to the side.

She stared down at the pale peach card reading, Missing you, and sighed heavily. She wanted to say, Don’t go! She wanted to beg for Alejandra to stay, but how could she do that? How could she put her own wants above those of her sister?

Carmen swallowed hard at the lump in her throat, then wrote what she thought she ought to say as the older sister, what she thought she should say as a best friend. With those thoughts swirling through her mind, she wrote:

I will miss you more than I can say, but I know that this is for the best and I support your decision completely… just as I have always supported everything you do. I love you and good luck.

The message caused a slight shiver to flicker down her spine. It sounded so unnatural. This wasn’t how she interacted with her sister, Ally. She quickly pushed that card away as well, unable to look at it any longer.

“We’ll get these right out to Ms. Cruz and Ms. Connelly,” the florist promised, smiling as she took the cards and their matching envelopes. The mauve and peach colors were going to go brilliantly with the bouquet selections Ms Cruz had ordered.

Carmen retrieved her sunglasses from her purse, then frowned as she began looking for her cell phone. “Where is it?” she muttered. She sighed, realizing that she didn’t have time for backtracking her steps. She would simply have to call Jennifer later and have the woman look for her phone at the office on Monday.

Surely, she thought, I must have left it there.

Carmen left the floral shop with her mind lost in a thoughtful haze. She didn’t seem to pay much attention to the errands she had to run in preparation for her trip, and it was well into late afternoon when she arrived home. She entered her loft with a chaotic mind. Still, it wasn’t Meredith that she found her thoughts drifting toward. It was Alejandra.

Why? she wondered.

She moved into her bathroom, shedding her clothes. The air felt good against her bare skin.

She reached for the faucet, then turned on the water. Suddenly the loud hiss of water stung at the air.

As Carmen stared into the mirror, her pensive expression began to grow softer and softer until it was veiled by steam. With the light hitting the mirror just right, she could have been another person. She stared at the reflection in a sort of faraway gaze. She didn’t even realize that she’d lifted her hand, not until it was stroking her breast. She gasped sharply, feeling her finger and thumb pinch a nipple.

She purred loudly. Her hand clutched tightly to the counter-top while her other continued to manipulate her aching nipple.

Carmen released her throbbing nipple. She slid her hand down her side and over her full hip. Her thighs opened for her. Slowly, her hand slipped between her legs.

Dark eyes burned toward the mirror as she gazed more heavily at the ‘other’ woman. Carmen could see herself pushing into her. In her mind, the moan she heard was not her own. It was the other woman’s. She took ‘her’ faster and deeper, needing to feel her climax run down to her wrist.

A cry ripped past her lips. When it bounced off the walls to impact brutally against her, Carmen trembled.

“Alejandra!”

*****

Carmen buttoned her fitted blue jeans with trembling hands. The sound of that lustful cry still echoed in her ears. She pulled her black tank top over her head while logic began to explain away what her emotions were beginning to cling to.

You were thinking a lot about your sister all day, she thought. That’s the reason you said her name. You were still dwelling on her move, that’s all.

She stared into her mirror. The eyes staring back at her defiantly voiced that they were far from convinced. She ran her fingers through her long hair before leaving the bathroom.

It was early evening when she lightly jogged down her stairs. She picked up her suitcase which was waiting in the foyer, and left her loft.

In an uncharacteristically silent drive, during which no music played and no cell phone rang, Carmen needed time to think. She wondered whether the card saying Come away with me would be received by a willing heart. She wondered if it was too late. Most importantly, she wondered why she couldn’t make herself care more. The possible end to her relationship with Meredith seemed a very distant second to the ache she felt at the thought of losing Alejandra to distance.

Carmen arrived at her sister’s house before she was even aware of having driven there. Her brown eyes welled with tears as she took note of the ‘for sale’ sign perched on the meticulously manicured lawn.

While the engine grew silent beneath the hood, Carmen sat quietly taking in her sister’s beautiful home. She wondered if she should go in, or simply start the car and drive away.

The front door opened to reveal the seductive silhouette of the house’s owner. With Alejandra waiting in the door, Carmen was robbed of her last option to quickly leave.

Slowly, the silhouette changed as the woman began to leave the threshold. She walked around the front of the car, revealing her athletic body in a flash of white and pale blue. She stopped, leaning close to the driver’s side door. Her face was beautiful, radiant within the night. Her olive skin glowed as her sister’s did, but unlike Carmen’s it was a much paler shade. She didn’t worship the sun the same way that her older sister did. Her long dark hair was black like her mother’s. Her lips were full and supple. They could often form into the same bewitching smile her sister possessed, but for Alejandra, her smile spoke of a certain shy air while Carmen never failed to convey confidence.

“Do you always linger outside women’s houses?” Alejandra asked softly, but with a smile.

Carmen huffed a laugh. “Only the beautiful ones,” she joked.

Alejandra’s face warmed with the onset of a slow-forming blush. She dipped her hands into her sister’s convertible, then tugged gently at her arms. The silent insistence urged her sister to come inside. She smiled as Carmen nodded in assent, then began slipping out of her car.

Carmen closed the door behind her absently. She watched Alejandra for a lengthy moment, simply taking her in.

Alejandra wore a fitted white tank that showcased her wiles. A flash of her lower back could be seen as the top ended. From her shapely hips, a pair of light blue silk pants glistened like ice. She walked barefoot into her home, tucking a thick strand of her hair behind her ear.

Carmen followed her sister into the house. She let the door close behind her. Moving more into her sister’s beautiful home, she found Alejandra waiting on the couch in the living room. She stopped when she saw the gorgeous arrangement sitting as the proud focal point of the room.

“They’re beautiful,” Alejandra sighed dreamily. She looked to her sister just as the woman stooped over the back of the couch to tenderly kiss her lips.

“You’re beautiful,” Carmen said. She felt the onset of butterflies fluttering throughout her chest. Why had they come? She had kissed Alejandra before. They were raised in a very physical and affectionate family. She decided not to dwell on it as she walked around the couch to sit with her sister.

“I haven’t read the card yet,” Alejandra said. “I wanted to wait for you to call or come over.”

Carmen smiled, though she was a thousand miles away from the moment.

Alejandra’s eyes widened in remembrance. “Oh that reminds me!” She hopped up from the couch, then moved toward the bar separating the kitchen from the large living room. Her hand clasped her sister’s cell phone before she walked back to the couch. “Here,” she said, “you left this.”

Carmen laughed ruefully and shook her head. “I was wondering what I’d done with it.” She took the phone, then set it to rest on the coffee table.

Carmen lifted her eyes to the young woman still standing before her, the same beautiful young woman who was staring at her so intensely. “What?” she blushed. She wondered why she was blushing. She never blushed.

Alejandra slowly lowered to kneel before her sister. She sat back on her heels. Her eyes gazed adoringly into Carmen’s eyes while her lithe hands came to delicately rest against her knees. “What’s the matter?” she asked gently.

Turning her head, Carmen looked at anything but the eyes she felt watching over her so closely.

Alejandra rose up gracefully until she stood a little taller on her knees. Now that they were face to face, her gaze was felt more intensely. “Amor,” she whispered.

Carmen froze. She felt consumed by an urge to take Alejandra into her arms. It was both frightening and exciting in the same instant.

“I can feel that something is wrong,” Alejandra said quietly.

“I—I don’t want to talk about it,” Carmen stuttered. What is wrong with me? she wondered. Why was she suddenly acting so strangely? As she sighed, she realized that it wasn’t that she didn’t want to talk about it, so much as it was that she wasn’t sure what to say. Or what she was feeling. Whatever it was, it left her horribly confused. She was normally so certain, and now she wasn’t sure of anything.

“Okay.” Alejandra flinched slightly. She knew that she should not be hurt by her sister’s behavior. And yet, knowing that there was something her best friend could not talk with her about left her experiencing a dull ache in her heart. She looked around them, searching for a distraction. Her sultry eyes found the flowers proudly reigning within the room. “The flowers!” she said suddenly.

Carmen lifted her head with a confused look. “Hmm?”

“The flowers.” Alejandra uncoiled from her place at Carmen’s feet. She leaned over the aromatic bouquet. Her fingertips tenderly stroked a rose’s delicate beauty.

Carmen fell under the spell of the beautiful woman. She found herself unable to take her eyes off her sister then. She watched the way that the light shone in her black hair. She noted how her sister’s touch always seemed to be convey the utmost gentleness. Surely that had been the reason that Alejandra was such a skilled violinist. Her hands, after all, were the reason New York was calling so desperately. Carmen frowned, suddenly feeling very jealous of the city.

Alejandra lightly plucked the card from its perched home inside the flowers. She turned with a playful air and flashed a brilliant smile. “Here it is,” she said.

Carmen woke from her thoughts, only to feel her face blanch.

The smile upon Alejandra’s lips began to fade as she witnessed the horrifying way that Carmen paled. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Don’t read that card,” Carmen blurted.

“What?” Alejandra looked away from her sister to the mauve card inside her hand. “Why not?”

“It’s… it’s….” Carmen leapt to her feet. She struggled to take the card, but Alejandra extended her arm, keeping it away from her sister’s reach.

“It’s what?” Alejandra asked curiously. “Let me read it.”

“No!” Carmen protested. “That’s the wrong one.”

“What?”

“They sent you the wrong one!” Carmen fought to struggle the card away from her sister.

Caught in a tangle of legs and arms, they tumbled to the floor.

Laughing joyously, Alejandra’s eyes were alight with a smile. She gazed up at her sister, meeting her eyes. “It’s just a card, Carmen,” she said. “Let me read it.”

Carmen’s breathing quickened as she supported her weight in her arms. She lingered above her alluring sister, feeling how their bodies pressed together.

Alejandra never broke eye contact as she opened the envelope. When she had the card in hand, her eyes shifted to the text, written in her sister’s beautiful handwriting. She allowed her eyes to rove leisurely over the words. It was not long before her eyes began to burn with a depth Carmen had never seen and a sound escaped from the length of her elegant throat that made Carmen’s breath tremble.

“She’s very lucky,” Alejandra said in a throaty voice.

“Who?” Carmen whispered. She adjusted the weight of her body, but could not bring herself to move from atop her sister.

“Your girlfriend.”

Carmen suddenly remembered that she had to get to the airport. That was where she was supposed to meet Meredith. She had written the airport’s name and the time at the very end of the note. The note that was now in her sister’s hand.

“Oh God,” she groaned in realization.

“What?” Alejandra reached out her hand. Gently she stroked her sister’s soft cheek.

“If you got this card, then that must mean that Meredith got the one I was going to send you,” Carmen sighed.

“Was my card as beautiful as this?” Alejandra smiled.

Carmen favored Alejandra with a slow-forming smile that she only ever gave her lovers. That fact did not escape her, but she didn’t run away from it either. “Mmm, more,” she purred as her head turned to plant a soft kiss upon her sister’s wrist. Her bottom lip caught against her wrist while she realized that she was flirting with Alejandra.

Alejandra sat up slightly. She supported her weight with her elbows, her face drawing closer to Carmen’s. Her eyes lowered quickly to take in her sister’s mouth. She regarded it closely for an agonizing moment — wondering, although not for the first time what it would be like to kiss Carmen. She wanted to kiss her, just as she had seen Meredith kiss her. What would it be like? Would Carmen be soft or gentle? What would her kiss taste like? She shivered suddenly beneath her sister.

Carmen felt the tremble. It caused her heart to race.

“Did the card that Meredith got ask her to go on vacation with you?” Alejandra asked softly.

Carmen shook her head. She held her breath for an instant as Alejandra drew closer. She leaned into the cheek moving to smooth her own.

“Well, then…” Alejandra felt her heart pounding thunderously inside her chest. She was certain that the breasts pressed so deliciously to hers could feel it too. “Since I received the invitation, I think I ought to be the one to go away with you.”

Carmen’s eyes flashed. Her heart was racing. She wanted to have that week alone with Alejandra more than she had ever imagined possible. She felt butterflies the way a person feels butterflies when about to leave on their first romantic trip with a new lover. The very thought of it made her skin tingle.

“H-how quickly can you pack?” she asked in a throaty voice.

Alejandra’s eyes burned. “Help me?” she breathed. Her breath caught inside her throat as Carmen quickly nodded, then leaped to her feet.

Carmen reached out. When her trembling hands felt Alejandra’s shaking inside her grasp, the touch sent an electric jolt through her limbs. She held her sister’s hand in hers and led the way up the stairs to Alejandra’s master bedroom.

Soon to come: Part Two!

 

Another Night Wasted, Chapter 4

  • Posted on December 2, 2017 at 9:56 am

By Jane Doe

Lana
I awaken slowly, my eyes drifting open and shifting to peer at the clock — it’s almost noon — and then down to the soft, slender girl nestled in against me, head on my shoulder, arm slung over my waist.

The house is quiet. Dad must be off to work as usual. Jen is so peaceful, her face relaxed and almost angelic, despite her brightly dyed hair and piercings.

I can’t help but smile as I watch her sleep. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so content in my life. Her warmth flows into me, keeping me drowsy, and her arms around me speak of a more tangible love than I’ve ever experienced before.

It’s been a week now since this started, this beautiful sexy thing with my sister. I know people would say it’s wrong, but at times like this I can’t fathom why. It seems so perfect, the understanding, the synergy of it, the unconditional love.

I do love her. More than she’ll ever know, I’m sure. So much it makes my heart hurt sometimes. But that’s not for now. Now is a time to be happy, a time for me to be me, and her to be her, and for us to be in love. For that love to be not just okay, but a truly wonderful thing.

Despite Jen’s minor protests I cup her chin gently, lifting her face up to mine. All resistance ceases as our lips meet, warm and soft, parting so we can taste one another, tongues slowly twining and exploring. Even when first waking up, she tastes wonderful, her scent is intoxicating, and my hand slides up from her chin into her soft, silky hair. She lets out a soft moan into my mouth and it almost undoes me, its tone resonating through my body, driving me to the limits of my self control.

Lips still locked together, I push Jen onto her back, slowly sliding up to straddle her. When our kiss breaks, I smile down at her and she smiles up at me, her eyes soft and warm, happiness and desire laid bare. It’s amazing how just a look from her can have such an effect on me, making my heart lurch and my breath quicken. But my musings are cut short as she reaches up and pulls me down into another kiss, her free hand sliding up my back under my shirt, making me shiver…

*****

Lucy
I can barely contain myself, bouncing around my room. I get both Aubrey and Katie on the phone: tonight is so going to rule! Everything is taken care of, Katie has the movie tickets, Aubrey has made sure her friend is working. If this doesn’t snap Lana out of her funk, nothing will!

I bop down the stairs and wave to my parents, zooming out the door to my car. Now off to the Parker household. The radio is on, loud and peppy, just how I like it! So, yeah, ever since she dumped Craig, Lana has been in this total mood, not really interested in boys or partying or anything. And I’m not gonna let a friend of mine live like that! Especially not Lana-belle!

The past week has been really bad. I’ve had to work on Lana just to get her out of her damn house. But tonight, TONIGHT! This will be a girls’ night out like no other, and all for her! I hope she appreciates this. I’m totally geeked, this is so gonna rock.

I pull up in the driveway, and not only is Lana’s car there but her dad’s as well. No matter, I bust on out of my car and hop up to the door, walking right on in as usual, like I own the place. Lana’s dad is sitting in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and the paper, score! Easy info!

“Hiya, Cap’n! Where might Lana be?” I ask, giving him a bright smile and tossing a salute his way.

He looks amused, at least. “Hi, Lucy, I don’t think she’s up yet. I haven’t seen either of the girls.”

“Okie dokie, I’ll just head on up and interfere with her slumber!” I toss him another grin as I go for the stairs, and I briefly see him smiling and shaking his head, going back to his coffee. I bet he was really hot when he was younger.

*****

Jen
God, this is perfect, better than I ever imagined it could be. Kissing Lana, touching her, it’s paradise. My hands sliding up the soft skin of her back, under her shirt, then back down her ribs and side, feeling her shudder under my touch as we kiss. I grip her hips for a moment and she almost grinds against my pelvis, making it my turn to shiver and moan.

I let my hands slide down further, so temptingly close to the juncture of her legs… but instead I trail my fingertips down the insides of her thighs, kissing Lana so deeply I feel like I can almost touch her soul. My heart thuds in my chest as my hands move upwards along her body once again, our heat blending and heightening the arousal we both feel. My hands continue their journey, working their way over her firm, smooth stomach and my nervousness reaches its peak as I move my left hand up to gently cup her right breast.

And I can finally say that I understand guy’s fascination with them. Lana’s reaction is every bit as wonderful as I hoped. She squirms on top of me and I writhe under her, making the most of the friction between our bodies, and I revel in the feel of her breast. Soft, so incredibly soft, warm and almost silky as I stroke it, a lovely weight in my hand, the hard button of her nipple, an odd firmness to it.

Her moans have almost turned into a hum, letting out little gasps that break our kisses. I want nothing more than to have my sister like this forever. To be able to bask in her pleasure and make her moan and squirm. She straightens up, still straddling and I follow, lost in her warmth and softness. Pot has nothing on this high.

In one smooth movement I pull up her shirt and catch one of her nipples in my mouth, suckling as though I was a baby starved for nourishment. I can feel her shudder in my arms as she cradles my head, letting out a soft cry and stroking my hair, my breasts pressing against her tummy, every inch of contact between us a source of incredible pleasure.

Once again I tell myself: This is heaven.

*****

Lucy
I creep up the stairs, quiet as a little mouse, a Cheshire Cat smile on my lips as I prepare to put my plan into action — oh, Lana is in for it! Sneaky-sneaky I go up, then down the hall, silently sliding up to Lana’s door. I listen intently for a moment.

Wait, does Lana already have company? For a moment it sounds like there might be hanky panky going on in there, the kind that might explain her distraction in school! I listen for a moment more, but as much as I strain I can’t hear any more of the sounds of possible wickedness.

My grin spreads even wider. It would figure, right? — little Miss Good Girl having some guy up in her room, maybe even overnight! I knew she had to have a sex drive buried somewhere in there.

Either way, I’m gonna find out! I position myself, tensing and then springing like a cat on the hunt, flinging her door wide open and… what the hell?

*****

Lana
It’s like liquid fire flowing through my body as Jen sucks and nibbles at my breast, her hands sliding with sanguine ease over my back. God, she’s far too good at this. I know I’m wet, probably more turned on than I’ve ever been in my entire life. How fucked up is that? How fucked up is this? I’m with the first person I’ve ever wanted to sleep with? Make love to? However you want to say it, I want her. I want her badly.

Her tongue flicks back and forth over my nipple, driving conscious thought from my brain until the bang of a door thrown open cracks through my head like a gunshot, and I can’t do anything but freeze in horror, like a deer in headlights.

*****

Jen
Lana freezes and I almost throw her down on the bed beside me. Who the fuck would have such horrible timing? Blood is rushing in my ears and my heart is pounding a mile a minute as I pull up the covers, knowing that there’s no way in hell I could possibly have moved fast enough to hide what was going on.

*****

Lucy
Where the heck is she? Her bed is all made, her room immaculate as usual. Puzzled doesn’t begin to cover it. I stand there, pondering, until I hear the door behind me open. I turn around and there’s Jen, looking a bit perturbed and still sleep-mussed, but pretty damn cute in her little black t-shirt and panties.

She’s looking at me like she would a sideshow freak, though. Actually, she would probably be less confused and more intrigued by a freak. So I give her a bright smile.

“Hey there, sexy. Where’s your big sis?”

She puzzles over the question for a moment — I suppose she just woke up. My bad.

Then she jerks her thumb back over her shoulder. “She slept with me last night. Now that you woke us both up, I need a shower.”

She yawns and slides around me, but I get an arm around her waist just enough to trail a hand over her bare belly as she moves away. If she has a thing for me, why not have some fun with it, eh?

“Sounds like fun, hot stuff. Maybe next time I’ll join you.”

I don’t wait for a response, but instead bound into her room, pouncing onto Lana’s half covered form on the bed. She groans in protest, which earns her many tickles! We tussle on the bed until she cries, “Uncle!” and I lounge back as she lies there panting.

*****

Jen
Did Lucy just hit on me? Wandering down the hall, my mind boggles. I think that’s the absolute weirdest thing that’s ever happened to me. Well, in a fashion. Once Lana and I realized the door that banged open was not the door to my room, that by some miracle we’d escaped discovery, an almost palpable wave of relief flowed through us both. With another quick kiss, I’d gotten up to figure out just what was going on. And now, shower time, I suppose.

So weird. I feel kind of bad for Lana, though. In the privacy of the shower I can take care of my built-up tension. Lana is just left at Lucy’s mercy. What a freaky morning.

*****

Lana
For the first minute, all I can do is lie on the bed and pant. Lucy must have a sixth sense for finding my ticklish spots, damn her. I finally roll onto my back, eyeing her suspiciously. And she looks oh, so satisfied with herself, that little smirk telling me all I need to know about how she’s doing.

I let out a long sigh, expelling the last traces of breathless tickle-induced laughter. “So then. Is there an actual reason I’ve been assaulted this morning?” I ask, stretching languidly and watching my oh-so-smug best friend.

“Maaaaaaayyyyyy-be…” is all Lucy has to offer in response.

I let out a frustrated little groan and sit up slowly, not quite ready to deal with her shifty ways this soon after waking up — especially after being so heart-stoppingly interrupted in the heat of lovemaking. I refuse to even think about how frustrated certain parts of my body are.

“You’re a pain, Lu. An absolute pain.” But she just smiles as I give her another dubious look.

“Yes, well, it’s not like it’ll matter, not until after you’ve had a shower and dressed properly.” She giggles lightly, letting me know that something is most definitely up.

“What have you got planned?” I groan. “I’m supposed to be spending the day with Jen. I can’t just ditch out on her.”

My stomach drops as I see her smirk widen into a grin. “Well then, we’ll just have to bring her along. I wouldn’t dream of making you break a promise, especially to your precious little sister.”

I don’t like that look. I don’t like it one bit. “Um. Yeah, Lu, about Jen—” I’m not quite sure where to start. Her grin fades into a look of curiosity, eyebrows raised and lips lightly pursed.

“What about her?” She grins again. “She’s definitely cute when she first wakes up — bet it’s nice to be next to her when she does.”

Once again, I’m amazed by Lucy’s nonstop sex drive. Does her mind ever come out of the gutter? And she has no idea how close to home her innuendo hits. I watch her and think, She always teases me for being so serious all of the time. She’s my best friend and a freak in her own right, but how would she deal with this? Knowing about Jen and me.

I want to trust her. I really do. Even to think about being able to tell someone, it makes my heart hammer with excitement. I want to tell! I really want to, but the thought of actually telling someone, anyone; it makes my mouth dry with nervousness even as it makes me almost giddy with excitement. One side of me is screaming to tell her every last detail, the other side demanding I keep it secret forever.

Lucy is watching me as well — a bit puzzled now, eyes wide and curious, head cocked to one side. Her eyes almost beg me to give up my secret, so wide and openly interested.

I don’t think she would ever judge me for what I’ve done with Lana. I hope she wouldn’t.

Somehow, I manage to speak. “Yeah, I mean, I think I figured some things out.” I’m barely able to keep from stammering, and can’t quite keep my tone even. I have to stop for a moment, taking a deep breath. Am I going to do this? It doesn’t feel like my heart is racing anymore; it feels more like it’s trembling in my chest, threatening to stop completely.

“Ooooooo! And what did you figure out, lil’ missy? No fair keeping it secret!” She’s immediately on all fours at the foot of the bed, giving me an eager, expectant stare. “Is Jen into me like you thought?”

There’s something about the excitement in her voice — the mixing of hope and something I can’t quite define. It makes my stomach quiver with a tinge of heated jealousy, if only for a moment.

“Um, it’s not quite what I thought. I mean…” I feel sort of guilty as I see her face fall, losing the strength I’d gained from my foolish jealousy. Does she have some kind of feelings for Jen after all? So many questions, so few answers.

“Well then, I mean, why did she freak out when she saw us kiss then? Bah, not like it really matters, today is for you! We need to get you out of this funk you’ve been in!” She smiles again, making my heart melt, distracting me from the topic at hand. I’ve never had a friend like Lucy, so eager to put everything else aside for my sake. Sure she can be a little self-absorbed at times, but if I really need her, she’ll be right there beside me, no matter what.

“I haven’t been in a funk!” I object, smiling back at her easily, naturally.

“Oh yeah you have, girl! You’ve been spending all your time in, never coming out with us. You need to get back in that saddle and find yourself a man worth having!” She’s almost bouncing, still on all fours, excited and happy. She looks so pleased with herself for coming up with a way to get me out and back on the dating circuit.

I have to tell her. “Well, Lu, I’ve kind of found someone.”

“Oh my GOD! No, you haven’t! And you didn’t tell me? Spill. Now.” It’s her turn to look oh, so serious, as though this was some huge breach of best-friend etiquette.

I sigh deeply and steel myself to take the plunge. “Okay, I mean, I guess Jen didn’t—”

Lucy makes a face. “I don’t need to hear about the Jen thing anymore! I wanna know about your boy!”

I can’t help but smile as I roll my eyes at her. “It’s not a boy.”

She looks puzzled for a moment, and then a wicked smile plays slowly on her lips.

“Oho, you tricky girl! Guess you couldn’t get enough of the girl-on-girl action, regardless of what your little sis thinks, huh?”

She hasn’t gotten it yet, but I suppose it’s not the sort of thing anyone would expect.

I take a deep breath, preparing to drop the bomb. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, psycho girl, if you stopped interrupting me! It’s why I’ve been spending so much time at home. I mean… I guess Jen didn’t have problems with you kissing me so much, but more with me kissing you.” I can’t help but look down as I speak, avoiding her searching eyes.

After a moment of silence I look up at her, my anxiety returning tenfold. I can see her puzzlement slowly turn to realization, eyes opening wide in shock, mouth hanging open.

“You mean, you and her? In bed?” She looks utterly boggled, and I’m not sure if this is a good or a bad reaction.

With impeccable timing, Jen chooses this moment to reappear in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy white towel, skin and hair damp and shining. My eyes are glued to her and, good God, she’s sexy. Lucy’s eyes have also turned towards my sister. I think being the sudden focus of our attention is a bit disturbing to Jen, especially considering Lucy’s agitated state.

I slowly stand, walking over to my beautiful Jen, and slide an arm around her waist. She gazes at me searchingly, making my heart ache and my thighs quiver. Her soft brown eyes quickly glance over at Lucy sitting on the bed as my fingers lightly trace her jaw line, sliding around to the back of her neck and pulling her into a breathless kiss, quickly parting my lips and plunging my tongue deep into her mouth as though I could touch her soul if I kissed deeply enough. The union of our mouths leaves us adrift, in that special place where a few seconds can seem like hours, and hours melt away like seconds.

“Oh my God, that is fucking hot!” Lucy’s stunned voice breaks us out of our reverie and we both look at her.

We must have made quite a picture, the three of us. Jen is blushing furiously, not just in her cheeks, but a faint redness rising along her collarbone as well. Lucy is staring open-mouthed once again, but with an intense interest burning in her eyes.

“Um, Jen, yeah, I told Lucy about us,” I say sheepishly, giving her an embarrassed smile.

“Told? I think that was a lot more than telling,” Jen fires back, giving me a dubious look. She struggles with what looks like anger with me for blurting out our secret, but her love wins out.

I can’t help but smile as Jen’s arms wrap around my waist and she buries her face against my neck. I can feel the heat of her blush and her breath, her body pressing close in against mine, sheltering her from embarrassment and Lucy’s gaze.

What a time for her to be wearing nothing more than a towel.

Continue on to Chapter 5

Posing With My Daughter

  • Posted on December 1, 2017 at 1:10 pm

By mal

{ This story was originally posted at Lush Stories, before the site was purged of all fiction that involved incest }

“So, do you know someone?” Kathy asked.

I thought for a second and then looked over to my daughter on the couch reading a book. It was spring break and my daughter was visiting from college.

“Maybe,” I said, biting my lip, wondering.

“Is that a ‘yes’ maybe or a ‘no’ maybe?” Kathy laughed, amused at my ambiguous answer.

“I will have to ask. I’m not sure yet,” I told her.

“Let me know as soon as possible, then. I’m looking to shoot in a few days. My schedule is pretty open, so I do have time to meet them, if needed.”

I thanked her and hung up. Kathy needed two models for a shoot, both women, and my daughter was not working while she was visiting us. I knew she could use a little money for when she went back and this was probably a good opportunity for her to earn it. I just wasn’t sure if she would accept.

“So, Kathy is looking for models and wants me to pose?” Lynn said when I finally told her.

“Yes, she needs two women for it. And she’s willing to pay well for it,” I said, trying to entice her, thinking this would be good for her.

“You know, I haven’t modeled before. I wouldn’t know what to do.”

I smiled, “There’s a first time for everything.”

“Hmm… I’ll think about it,” Lynn said after a pause and a wrinkle of her lips.

“Think about it tonight, dear. We can meet her so you can get more details before the shoot. Tell me tomorrow so I can arrange it.”

The next morning she reluctantly agreed to at least meet with Kathy, being nervous since she had never modeled before. I assured her that it would be alright and that there really wasn’t anything like “messing up” when it came to posing. I called Kathy and arranged a time before the shoot to meet.

We met at a coffee shop. It was Saturday so there were a lot of people out and the place was crowded. Kathy was sitting at a table outside as we walked up. We all went inside and found a little corner to talk.

The place was housed in an old building that someone had bought and obviously endeavored to create a cozy and artsy atmosphere. The inside was partitioned, creating numerous small corners so that almost every few seats had its own comfortable and semi-private alcove. One section was walled so that it created its own mini parlor.

“I’m looking to do a series of photos for an art project of mine,” Kathy explained. “That involves two women.”

“What would we be doing exactly?” Lynn asked.

This is the part I didn’t know how she would take. I was generally fine with it since some of my modeling background was, to put it lightly, provocative. This would be nothing compared to what I had done before but since Lynn had no modeling experience whatsoever, I wasn’t sure what she would be comfortable with.

“You two would be posing together in the same shots. Clothed but uncovered enough to make my artistic point.”

“Nude?” Lynn asked, seeing through the edited answer that Kathy was giving.

“I wouldn’t say that. The point is to contrast older and younger. Anything revealed would be to emphasize the fact that we underneath are all the same. Ultimately the distinction is irrelevant.”

She was silent for a moment. I was fine with the posing since there would be nothing I hadn’t seen before at various times for various reasons. Kathy explained to me that it would be a highly professional shot.

“How would we be posing?” Lynn finally said.

“In each other’s arms, holding each other, things like that. Very loving,” Kathy replied.

“I don’t really see anything wrong with that,” Lynn said after a moment of thought. “I mean, I’m not used to all this, but that’s all, I think.”

“We just want to make sure you’re okay with it all, hon,” I told Lynn.

“As long as they aren’t ending up on the internet or something,” Lynn cracked a smile, although I could see her trepidation peeking through. “What are they for, by the way?”

“Mostly, they’re going into my portfolios. Maybe I’ll display one or two at a gallery. I’m not exactly sure yet. It won’t be widespread, in any case. We can sign something too, so you get a say on what I do with them, if you want,” Kathy explained.

So, everything was agreed upon. My daughter was now an employed model.

*****

We sat on a settee in our outfits, waiting for Kathy as she collected her cameras in the other room. She had us wearing a blouse and short shorts. We weren’t allowed to wear bras, for some of the shots that involved cleavage and a subtle hint of bare breast. Lynn sat next to me, fidgeting a little, her naked knee against mine.

“Here we go,” Kathy finally said as she walked out from the back room.

“The photos will be black and white,” Kathy continued, explaining the shoot to us. “We will do a few different poses, varying things a little to see what works and so that I have options when choosing shots.”

“How many photos, then?” I asked, knowing that she liked to take a lot.

“I don’t know… enough?” she teased, knowing I could get irritated at her tedium sometimes.

“Well, let’s get this started, then,” I said.

We started with a few shots of us just interacting, holding hands, smiling, arms around each other. She wanted some shots to establish a rapport. I was glad that I was with Lynn on her first shoot. I felt like I was doing the motherly thing and guiding her through first steps.

“Now stand there, Lynn,” she pointed to a spot.

Lynn was good and went where she was told, arms to her side.

“Peggy, now get close to her and hug her, arms around her waist,” she explained.

I did so, and I hugged her. I could feel her whole body, legs, torso, and chest pressed against mine, skin on skin. It was odd to feel the warmth and softness of her full and round breasts on mine as Kathy took a few shots. The blouses were thin, almost see-through, and we weren’t wearing a bra so I could feel all her contours and her nipples pressing against mine. I always loved the feel of a woman next to me and I caught myself, to my surprise, getting wet having my daughter’s body against mine.

“Let’s do this,” Kathy came up to us and adjusted the pose.

Our blouses were unbuttoned a little in one of the poses beforehand, and now Kathy tugged on Lynn’s blouse a little, to show a more cleavage. Kathy’s hand brushed against my nipples, as we stood there. The room was slightly chilly already, and so I was extra sensitive. I almost jumped when her hand grazed them, a small convulsion in my stomach.

“There it is, now look into her eyes, Peggy,” she said, as she snapped some shots.

That was mostly what it was like the whole time. She put us in poses together and adjusted the clothing, slipping it back or over a shoulder, or something. Kathy also took some singular shots, ones that highlighted our feminine features and curves, some of them suggestive, others not.

One of the last shots took place on a futon in the room that was folded down into the bed position. We were both laying down on our sides, Lynn in front and I behind her, draping my arm over her shoulder.

I was pressed full-body against her, like when we were standing, breasts in her back, hips against her butt, except for my legs draped over hers. Kathy adjusted Lynn’s top so that it was covering her but you could still see the gradual swell of her breast before it was obscured by the blouse. Subtle but suggestive.

I was already hot and I couldn’t do anything about my hardening nipples. Feeling Lynn next to me didn’t help. The whole session, my pussy was continually pressed up against a leg or other contour of Lynn’s body or Kathy’s hand brushed against me. I couldn’t help but feel a tingle in my pussy as my clit pressed against my daughter’s backside, as per Kathy’s pose.

“Look at her chest, like you are admiring her. Give it a little hint of sex.” Kathy grinned, as she pulled back to admire her shot.

Surprising to me, as I looked where Kathy told me to, I could see down Lynn’s blouse and noticed that her nipples were hard. I wondered if it was because of the chill. Maybe Kathy’s ministrations were having an effect on her too?

*****

“I will meet you in the car,” I told Lynn. “Kathy and I need to talk for a moment.”

We finished the shoot, almost two hours later. Lynn acknowledged and went into the side room to change. Kathy and I went into another room that contained her darkroom and photo equipment, down a short hallway from the room we just posed in.

“So, give me her information and I will send her a check,” Kathy mentioned as she took apart her camera, changing the lens.

I had to think fast. This photo shoot had been a little more provocative than she had led on and I didn’t want her to know that I had posed with my daughter.

“Just give it to me — she prefers cash,” I said, hoping that was enough.

“Cash… okay,” she muttered, examined the lens, and then went for her purse. “I thought that might be a possibility, so I came prepared.”

“College student, y’know? Doesn’t have to claim it on taxes, cash is untraceable. Easier to get aid if your income is lower, yadda, yadda.” I explained, attempting to sound half-interested in the details.

She rummaged through her purse and pulled out a wad of cash — the $150 they agreed on. Walking back to me, she grinned.

“Before I give this to you, there’s something else,” she said, cupping her left breast, a knowing gleam in her eyes.

That vixen!

I started to get wet. Since my beginning shoots with her, that cute redhead always kidded about giving ‘extras’ after the shoot and I didn’t believe her until I finally called her bluff and we fucked like minks, right there on the floor. I found from that experience that I absolutely loved giving extras afterward. There was something so raunchy about it, dirty and delightful.

I unzipped her jeans and pulled them down. I teased her slit through her panties, lightly grazing my hand against them, heat rolling off them.

“That girl… she’s a beauty. Seeing you two together really turned me on,” she moaned.

Unbuttoning her jeans, I kissed her through her panties softly as she talked and I could feel the damp heat against my lips through the soft cotton. I slowly eased them down over her hips, her bittersweet smell was wonderful.

“She like girls?” she husked as I teased her slit with my tongue like a snake, a quick lick and then withdrawing.

“Mmmm,” I responded — not answering her question to get her excited as I penetrated her with my tongue.

I lapped up her juices as she rode my face, right there in the middle of room. I knew she was really turned on because she wasn’t wasting any time on her orgasm.

“Jesus!” she gasped, my tongue dancing along her slit.

At that moment, she convulsed against my face as her sticky juice poured onto my tongue and lips. She whimpered for a while as her orgasm subsided and the aftershocks made her quiver on my face a few moments longer.

“That was well earned,” she smiled, as I got off my knees, wiping my mouth clean of her juice.

I took the money from her outstretched hand, paused with a twinkle in my eye, and kissed her on the lips so she could taste herself.

“Maybe you can bring by that girl again, maybe we can bring her back here and she can show me a thing or two,” she said handing me the money.

I just smiled, jokingly, “If I don’t get to her first!”

I loved being a tease sometimes, especially with Kathy.

*****

That week I was surprised to realize that Lynn was already looking at photos within the week. She called me over to her laptop one day and I recognized the photo shoot.

“I asked for them early, since I was curious,” she replied after I commented on how quickly she got them. “Kathy says these aren’t the cleaned up ones, but I really couldn’t wait.”

I could tell they weren’t quite ready yet, being accustomed of the usual quality of Kathy’s work. These were almost there but not quite.

Despite being works in progress, however, they were looking really good, even now. They were more tame than I originally envisioned, but there was still a hint of eroticism in them. The flesh that showed was enticing and I felt myself getting a little hot, to my surprise. Granted, this was tasteful, but the composition was great and there was a beauty and sensuousness in it that worked.

“I like this one,” Lynn commented.

She clicked the next arrow to advance the image. It was the one where I was behind her, our blouses loose and unbuttoned and revealing enough to show skin and cleavage. My hand was draped across her front and it looked like I was grazing her nipple but I didn’t remember that. The only thing I remembered from that photo was the proximity and my bare breasts pressed into her back.

“What do you like about it?” I asked, curious.

“It’s pretty. We both look good,” she commented. “Especially you, Mom.”

I had to admit that it was a good shot of me and it showed us off well. Over the time I spent posing with Kathy, I realized her skill in taking something that seemed such an innocuous idea and conveying exactly what she wanted artistically with it. I knew that once these were edited, they would look amazing.

*****

Days later, I was surprised to get another call from Kathy regarding another gig; a live performance. She wanted Lynn and me to do it.

“Really?” I asked. “I’m not sure.”

The idea was fine by me, but I wasn’t sure how Lynn would receive it. It wasn’t a photo shoot but Kathy was in need of some models. She wanted us to do something like go-go dancing, although she didn’t call it that. That is just what it sounded like to me. It would be behind a curtain so nobody knew who it was and it would be similar to what we had done for the photo shoot but with less clothes.

It was somewhat mundane to me, but there was a hitch to it. Kathy and I were active in the local fetish scene, and it was actually how we’d met. She was in charge of booking dancers for the next event. No matter how harmless dancing behind a screen would be, it was the choice of locale that might weird my daughter out.

I knew some of the specifics of the gig. It would be a fetish night with music — one room containing the dancers and a DJ and the fetish happening in another area of the club, in other rooms. Dante’s was the name of the place; I’d been there before. You really had to go into a room to explore a specific kink, and if you were dancing, which is what we would mostly be doing that night, you couldn’t see anything from the dance floor.

I declined at first, but Kathy was really adamant about having us both dance. She was also willing to pay, and I know Lynn could always use some extra cash.

“Soooo…” I decided to bring it up to Lynn later on. “Kathy has another gig for us.”

“Oh, yeah?” she said, eyebrow raising as she watched TV.

“Yeah. It’s not a photo shoot, like before,” I eased into it.

“What does she want me to do, then?” Lynn’s head tilted.

“Well, us, actually. You ever done any dancing… like go-go style dancing?”

“No,” Lynn giggled. “What would we be doing that for?”

“She just needs some models, to help her out. She said she would pay you,” I tried to keep this as nonchalant and harmless sounding as possible. “She was impressed with our shots together and thinks we would be good for it.”

“Sounds alright, I guess,” she said. “What are the details?”

This was the part where I had to choose my words carefully. I wanted to help her get work, but I didn’t want to scare her off and miss an opportunity.

“It’s like before, like the pictures. We’d be dressed similarly, but for dancing,” I said as my way of saying that we wouldn’t be wearing a lot.

“And we’d be dancing for DJs playing there,” I continued. “As their go-go girls. We wouldn’t be the only ones. There would be other girls.”

“Hmm,” she thought about it. “Where at?”

“Dante’s. It’s a dance night, obviously, but it’s a special night and wondering if you’d be fine with it,” I hesitated a little, concern evident in my voice.

“Special night?”

“It’s a bondage night, also,” I explained, ‘bondage’ seeming only subtly more arty or less vulgar than ‘fetish’ or ‘sex’. “I just don’t know if you would be okay with that.”

I had an uncomfortable moment, a feeling of ice-cold shooting through me as I waited for her verdict. I didn’t want her to think I was asking something improper or suggesting something freaky.

“Jeez, Mom,” came her reply. “Do you think I live under a rock? Some of my friends from college are into bondage. You didn’t exactly teach me to be a prude about things.”

I was shocked. It’s true I hadn’t, but one just never knew with one’s kids. I never raised her to regard sex as a religious nut would — as something to avoid. But I’d never clued her in on my own, um,  personal tastes. I was open with her that sex was something to be enjoyed but responsibly and I’d always been honest about my bisexuality.

It took me awhile but it made more sense to me once we talked about some of her friends. She was a little more worldly than I guessed — young, inexperienced, but not naive.

“Besides, it’s just dancing,” she said.

I suppose she was right.

*****

Everything was arranged by Kathy. In addition to Lynn’s pay, we were even provided a “go-go uniform” since they wanted everyone to look the same. We would take shifts, dancing for 15-20 minutes and then taking breaks. Kathy said that she found probably ten women, going on stage two at a time.

“Wow,” I breathed, looking at our outfit and noticing that the clothing they gave was even more scanty than I predicted.

“You still okay with this?” Lynn said, teasing me about my apprehension when I first suggested this gig to her.

I held the thong in front of me with one finger. Actually, it was more like a tanga, although it was difficult to tell with all the ‘fetishy’ alterations.

“At least you’re getting paid for this. I’m just doing it as a favor to Kathy,” I mentioned, as Lynn watched me slip them on.

After changing, we were provided with light robes to keep ourselves warm with. It was still early and the doors hadn’t opened yet and we hadn’t really moved around to warm up. Everything seemed to get a little harried as the opening approached and we were given an orientation before the doors opened.

“This is where you girls will dance,” Kathy mentioned as she guided everyone around the screen behind the DJ.

We were brought to a small stage with a lamp shining towards the screen to cast our shadows. I made a mental note to not look in the direction of the lamp or close my eyes because that thing was bright!

“Dance close together, make it look sensuous. You can dance apart, but just make sure that every once in awhile you come together,” Kathy explained the expected routine.

I cast a glance to Lynn, concerned, thinking that this was more than I even bargained for. Sensuous? That word never came up in the phone conversation between Kathy and I. Yet again, Kathy also didn’t know that Lynn was my daughter.

“What?” Lynn whispered to me after seeing my glance and seemingly reading it like an open book. “How is this different than the shoot? Other than dancing?”

Her nonchalance was somewhat refreshing. It’s true, Kathy did say we could dance apart, but Lynn’s calm demeanor was surprising. Did Lynn even hear the word ‘sensuous’?

After the explanation, Lynn and I sat off to the side of the dance-floor. People began entering and, as more people entered, I was surprised by Lynn’s reactions. She gave long looks to some of them, obviously enticed and interested in the spectacle before her. And it wasn’t just the men, but also the women she was looking at! She seemed to be taking everything, and everyone, in eagerly.

“We’re up, honey,” I mentioned to her, as I noticed the time.

We were still in our robes and the first girls were just coming off the stage as we walked up, each girl arm in arm, hanging off each other.

“Ooohh,” one of them cooed as we walked up. “You two look hot together.”

I blushed, said thank you, and both Lynn and I slipped off our robes when we got onto the stage.

“Y’know? They aren’t lying,” Lynn said as she watched me take my robe off. “You could get lucky here if you wanted to.”

I was taken aback slightly by here brazen attitude tonight, but only slightly. It was unexpected but, as she mentioned, this wasn’t a completely foreign environment to her. I smiled and took her hand, guiding her into the center of the stage, not knowing how to do this and knowing that there were people watching. Doing the first thing that jumped to my mind, I slid down my daughter’s body, arms wrapped around her and slid back up slowly.

I saw a this is interesting twinkle in Lynn’s eyes and she copied my movement, her breasts grazing my nipples as she went down. We parted in a twirl, separating, and dancing to the electronic beat of the music. For awhile we did that, shimmying and doing our best to look ‘sexy’.

Coming together again, I closed my arms around her and she did the same. She turned around slowly, her back towards me, reaching behind herself to trace her fingers along my shoulders, then took a hold of my hands and fastened them to her hips.

“I’m going to bend down,” she leaned her head back and whispered to me, preparing me, hair spilling across my chest.

This was another ‘sexy’ part of the dance and I’m sure it looked great to people watching. She leaned down, our hips connected, so that it looked like we were in a doggie-style position and I had the most pleasant surprise! Her butt pressed against my clit, that was already sensitive, enticed by all the gorgeous people around me. I was surprised as the sensation shot through me, providing me more relief than I thought I needed, as my eyes rolled back. I didn’t come, but if she stayed in that perfect position and I could grind, I would have.

We separated again, with me in a huff. All these slips and bumps with my daughter were doing something to me. I noticed it was doing something to her because her nipples were hard under her bra. I looked down and noticed mine were too, in addition to my buzzing clit.

I couldn’t believe my reaction to her. I never imagined that my daughter could make me hot and bothered, even accidentally. Or was it accidentally? Or was it just the build-up over the photo session and now? She was always beautiful, but it dawned on me at that moment. I began realizing the sexual dimension of her that everyone else saw. Thinking about the throbbing of my clit, I watched her as I danced and soon we were watching each other.

It wasn’t long until the dance was done and the next girls were on stage. She eyed me, as we walked off stage, took my hand, and led me over to the side of the dance floor.

She looked into my eyes, and I searched them, wondering. It looked like she wanted something but I wasn’t sure if I wanted that. She took my hands in her hands, her expression mixing trepidation and desire, and then did the most forward thing imaginable — she leaned in and kissed me!

It wasn’t a peck on the cheek, but a full kiss. Her tongue slipped past my lips and sensuously rolled around in my mouth. I was so taken aback by this change of events that I didn’t return the kiss. When she pulled back, I didn’t move and stood there completely stunned.

My mind began working again, slowly and sluggishly, but it happened. I didn’t know how to even begin thinking about it. She hovered there though, her lips inches away, her body still leaning in and close to mine, her breast teasingly and enticingly pressing against my nipple. Obviously, if this were any other girl besides Lynn, I would have wasted no time with her.

Lynn’s hand slinked its way up my thigh, fingers sliding to the inside, but she stopped. I looked at her eyes and I found that same trepidation and want but it was rimmed with obvious affection and a desire to go further, only if it was okay with me. Having a hand that close to me, between my thighs, made me wet.

I pulled her close in a caring hug, my lips next to her ear, and I could smell the sweet scent of her blonde hair. I was amazed about her feelings for me and, to be completely honest, I was amazed at my feelings for her.

I keenly sensed a broadening and deepening of our relationship — a desire to share feelings, emotions, and sensations that were beyond the conventional relationships between mother and daughter. We would always love each other and would always be close and that intrigued me the most. It just happened that we could also share that closeness and love in a very deep and erotic way and that thought made my already lubricated pussy leak some more.

I whispered a consolation into her ear, telling her it was alright. I slipped my hand around, clasping hers, and slowly guided it onto my fiery pussy.

“That day at the photo shoot.. you were so sexy,” she explained over the beat of the music, the rhythm pulsing in time to the throbbing of my cunt. “Then I started having fantasies about us, doing things together… I want you, Mom.”

I kissed her on the neck and got really close to her ear. “What we do right now is just for us, honey,” I said, conscious of the roomful of people around us. The exhibitionist side in me was going crazy at that realization, but I wanted her to know this was special. “Those things you’ve been dreaming about… we can do them right here.”

This was going to be just my daughter and I, exploring our newfound desires. I guided her as we fondled my pussy together, my hand over hers so that I could feel her pleasing me.

I glanced up and noticed a couple guys and even a girl staring at us, noticing Lynn caressing my pussy. Having myself masturbated in public and having people watch was crazy hot to me. Having them witness a special realization between Lynn and I was so smoking white-hot that Lynn could have gotten me off that second if she wanted and I would have had one the greatest orgasms of my life.

She was taking it slow and sensual and I was helping her build me up. Little did the voyeurs know that they were witnessing, first-hand, the sensual awakenings of a mother and daughter as they broke down barriers into a world of delight. But that was our dirty little secret!

I prompted and moved her hand as she slid her fingers over my slit, through my panties. It felt so good as I buried my face in her hair, breathing deep. I could have showed her how to get me off right then so that she could feel my panties dampen with my torrent but I wanted it to last as I watched everyone around me, staring.

“Slowly, honey, slowly,” I coached as I let go, her hand stroking the full length of my slit.

I eased my hand up along her inner thigh and slowly touched and stroked the drenched wetness of her panties. I could feel her extended labia through the snug garment.

“Ohh, ohh..” came her intense reply as her long awaited fantasy became reality.

She tried pressing into my pussy, her fingers pushing the material of my panties past my pussy lips. The teasing was amazing and I hissed slightly at the incredible pleasure. I didn’t know how I felt about my beautiful daughter being inside me yet, but it felt amazing!

“Ohhh… no.. not yet, hon,” I cautioned.

“I… I want you to come,” she said, embarrassed.

“I will, honey… I’ll come all over your hand… in front of all these people,” the last portion almost stuck in the back of my throat, as I realized the immensity of the taboo I was about to break.

I returned the gesture. Moving her panties aside, I eased my fingertips past her lips.

“God, mom…” she hissed into my ear, and her excitement made her press her fingers harder against my clit and slit. “You’re inside me, oh God…”

She reflexively closed her thighs around my hand, to stop the fingers but, as I eased my fingers into her and her sopping insides yielded, she shivered from a place of deep pleasure, gasping, and opened her thighs. Her hips thrashed and she quietly grunted and screeched into my ear like I was walking the length of a dildo into her. In her ardor, Lynn drummed my slit with fervor, speeding up her rhythm, and it was such an intense thrill! Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that about two others’ eyes were glued to my fingers slowly impaling my lusty daughter! With Lynn’s renewed ministrations and the voyeur’s locked stares, I felt my stomach start to quiver a little.

I stopped knuckle-deep into her young pussy. She grunted loudly as I pumped my finger and used my thumb to massage her clit. Her head leaned back, mouth open, she changed her position for better access for me, her chest pushed out, due to the position, and her nipples sexily poking through the bra.

“Mom… oh…” she gasped.

Her whole body trembled, her breasts quaked, as seemingly the whole dance-floor watched me knuckle-deep in my daughter and fingering her to orgasm. Her hips gyrated back and forth on my hand as her young pussy contracted around my fingers, spasming. Our fingers were deep inside each other as she spilled sticky honey over my hand and onto the seat.

Lynn’s fingers were still busy on my slit, the fabric of the panties tugging hard on my clit and her finger tips probing the sensitive, trembling rim of my pussy felt like fiery ecstasy.

“You’re making me come,” I gasped, shuddering with pleasure.

A blistering orgasm tore through me, from head to toe, a deep-seated thing that spilled my sweet sugar into my panties, coating her hand and my seat. I convulsed so intensely and I leaked so much that it felt like a bucket was poured out between my legs! My legs were twitched and I almost lost consciousness from the exquisite release.

As I came down, small shots of electricity arced through my body, Lynn caressed the side of my face, and gave me a kiss, her tongue rolling around in my mouth. It was very passionate and we couldn’t help but slide our hands down each others’ sides, down our hips. Her full and rounded breasts pressed into mine. She kissed me hard and I returned it with equal fervor, moaning, and relishing the intimate release that we just experienced together and the closeness it created.

The End

Another Night Wasted, Chapter 3

  • Posted on November 25, 2017 at 9:13 am

By Jane Doe

Lana
Since her sudden disappearance, I haven’t really seen Jen. It’s been days since she’s had dinner with me. She leaves before I get up and walks to school I guess, I wish she wouldn’t do it… but she hasn’t missed school, and I know she’s eating. So what right do I have to demand anything of her? Especially when I’m the one that put her in this state.

But now it’s Friday. I still haven’t seen her but after school I go and pick up a couple of movies anyways. Between awful horror and artsy drama I hope I can make enough of an apology. I’m really hoping she shows up. I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t show up at all. Our curfews are pretty loose on the weekends… but all the same I have to try. Movies she’ll love, Chinese from her favorite place, everything about her. I have to make it up to her somehow.

At the same time, it’s been nice having these couple of days to think about things. If she’s into Lucy, then really, who am I to stand in the way? I love them both, though I’d have to beat Lucy bloody if she broke my little sister’s heart.

At the same time… that was an absurdly nice kiss. I really have to wonder if I’m gay. Or lesbian, whatever you want to call it. So soft and sweet and gentle, it just felt right. Okay, maybe not entirely right, but a hell of a lot closer than anything else I’ve ever done. It kind of makes me think I just need to find the right girl. Worth a try at least. But what would the right girl be like?

I’m on the couch pondering such matters when my little sister comes walking through the door. She looks a bit ragged, like she hasn’t been sleeping, and has new adornments in the form of a hoop in her left nostril and a third piercing in her right ear. But even looking so tired and with the slightly raw new holes, she’s still my beautiful Jen and I give her a wide smile as she walks in.

*****

Jen
I haven’t talked to Lana in days, but when I walk in she’s there on the couch, smiling at me. She looks so happy to see me, and perhaps a bit relieved. My heart tightens in my chest as I try to stay cold, unaffected by her… not that it works. The warmth in her smile could melt me on my most hateful days, and today I’m just tired. Even with everything that’s happened I just want to kiss her, to tell her how I feel, to have her as my own… instead, I give her a weak smile in return.

“Hey Lana… what’s up?” I ask, hoping I don’t sound as weak as I feel.

She gives me a mildly reproachful look, and I pause, running through what I could have done to earn such an expression. My mind is still processing when she answers both my asked and unasked questions. “Not much, just waiting on you. We had a date tonight, in case you managed to forget. Movies, popcorn ready to be popped and Chinese on the way already. I figured even if you had forgotten the smell of orange chicken would summon you from wherever you ended up hiding.”

I can’t help but smile at the knowing look on her face. I wanted to tell her that as much as I love orange chicken, I’d do a lot more and travel a whole lot farther to see her smile at me again… to wake up next to her again. But as is my habit, I keep my damn fool mouth shut.

I leave my shoes and backpack by the door and wander over to inspect the rentals for the night, and I’m amazed to see Hellraiser and Lost and Delirious side by side on the coffee table. I look up and she’s giving me another one of those knowing smiles. All I can do is plop down beside her and lean against her, nuzzling into her shoulder. She slides an arm around my shoulder and I wonder how the hell I’m ever supposed to get my heart back.

“So, which do you want to watch first?” she asks, giving me a light kiss on top of my head.

“Doesn’t matter to me, I love ‘em both, as you well know.” I want to tell her how lucky I feel to have her there. How I must have done something really good in a previous life to deserve her, even if we’re never more than sisters. But it just doesn’t seem the time to say things like that, silly as that may sound.

“All righty, then it’s my choice… may as well get the pain out of the way first.”

She picks up the case with the Hellraiser DVD and extricates herself long enough to go put it in the player, then returns to the couch and our closeness. I know how much she hates horror movies… personally I think she’s just easy to scare, and has never had someone she really liked to turn to for comfort. The whole “take the girl to the horror movie so she’ll cringe against you” thing. She’s always been too self reliant, the one who has to take care of other people, not get taken care of.

Me? I’m just morbid. Or at least that seems the best reason to be fascinated by things that other people find horrifying, like Pinhead using animated chains to tear people apart in some weird sado-masochistic underworld…

We stay curled up on the couch until the Chinese arrives, about a half an hour in. The movie gets paused while we eat, since I think it would be mean to make her eat chunks of meat and sauce while watching… well, you get the idea. Like Chinese places don’t have enough problems with rumors of unknown meat sources.

We get the movie going again once we’re stuffed, and as it gets more demented her arm tightens around me now and again, keeping me close. When she stiffens up I nuzzle her shoulder a bit, breathing her scent in deeply, or otherwise snuggle up a bit more, and she seems at least a bit comforted by my presence.

I don’t think I could be any happier, despite the whole Lucy thing. No, no, don’t think about that.

Finally the movie ends, to my disappointment, and she gets up again to change the DVDs. To my surprise she then wanders off into the kitchen, and I’m left looking after her, curiosity perking as I hear her digging in the fridge or freezer or something.

*****

Lana
What better to take my mind off of horrible scenes of torture than… ice cream? I dig in the freezer, pulling out the two pints I’d picked up earlier. Irish cream with mocha chips for me and vanilla ice cream with brownie chunks and a raspberry swirl for her. Grabbing a couple of spoons I head back out to the living room and she’s just barely peeking over the back of the couch, watching for me. It’s so cute, I can’t help but laugh.

She perks up when she sees the small cartons in my hands, raising up a bit so I can see her smile. “Whatcha got there? Presents?” she asks, that impish smile on her lips and eyes bright.

“Maybe, if you promise to behave,” I laugh, walking around the couch and handing her the ice cream I got for her. She takes it, letting out a little squeak of delight and bouncing on the couch. She digs in and I pop the next DVD into the player. She seems mesmerized by the movie as it plays. I mostly ignore it, watching her instead.

I decide that there is no time like the present to broach uncomfortable subjects… so I take a deep breath and forge ahead, ready for… something.

“You know Jen… the other night. That was really nothing. If you have a thing for Lucy, go ahead — you’re more important to me than she could ever be.”

Whatever I expected, her response isn’t it. She lets out a short, derisive laugh, almost more of a bark, looking over at me, surprise plain on her face.

“Lucy? Me? No, never!” The incredulity shows in her voice and I simply blink at her, puzzled. Her mouth snaps shut and her face blushes a deep crimson, as though she’s said too much. She turns back to the movie, leaving me with my confusion.

My mouth snaps shut as I think it through… she’s no homophobe, she doesn’t have a crush on Lucy… and my mind wanders to the feel of her eyes on me, the way she watches me, how she looks away when she sees I’ve noticed these things…

Oh, my God. I understand. I understand everything.

And for once in my life, impulse takes over.

I smile over at her. “Oh, okay, no biggie… hey, you want to try my ice cream? It’s really good.”

She glances at me, then shyly returns my smile and nods, leaning over towards me and opening her mouth. I get a nice spoonful of my Irish cream and mocha chip and take a bite, savoring the taste for just a moment as she looks at me, a bit pouty, as though I’m teasing her. And I guess I am. I give her another brief smile, and before my brain can object I lean forward, melding my lips to hers and sharing the heady sweetness — not only of the ice cream, but of the kiss as well.

The kiss isn’t at all what I expected. I couldn’t tell you what I expected… I don’t really know myself. But there in the dark, with the movie playing in the background, the whole world consisted of that kiss, the warmth, the passion, the tenderness and the hunger in it.

It’s like she wants to devour me, and all I can do is submit and let her take from me what she desires. Except she’s giving me back something too. Her hand slides around to the back of my neck, holding me there, mouths pressed together, lips melded and tongues exploring each other’s mouths, feeling, tasting. But it’s more than ice cream being shared, it lasts long past the sweet cream and chocolate.

She’s pouring out her heart to me, I can feel it, every repressed feeling, all her lust, all her love, all her shame and anger, she’s sharing it all with me. And I drink it all in, because to me it’s the sweetest nectar in the world, more sustaining than mother’s milk and more precious than ambrosia.

When we finally break apart I’m left breathless, and I pull back a bit to make an attempt at gathering my thoughts. She’s staring at me in the darkness, face half lit by the glow of the television and it makes me ache to see the uncertainty written across her features. Her eyes are like the midnight sky and I see such profound desire in them as well. Our eyes meet for a moment and I can’t help but look away from the intensity in her gaze, it’s all too overwhelming. My heart is hammering in my chest and I’m almost gasping for breath.

Why the fuck did I do that? Why did I stop? What the hell am I supposed to do now? I look up and meet her gaze once again. “Jen, I…”

She cuts me off as she darts forward, kissing me this time. I can’t resist the siren’s call of her lips, or the heat growing in the pit of my stomach, nor do I want to. I slowly lean back towards the arm of the couch and she moves with me, sliding up on top of me, her heat and weight pressing into me. My arms slide around her waist and I trail my hands slowly up and down the curves of her back, along her spine and down her ribs, learning every contour, every plane and every angle.

No boy has ever been like this, so soft, even in her most consuming moments of passion, so ardently adoring, so giving… not even Lucy was like this, it’s indescribable. The scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her on top of me, her hands wandering, somewhere between greedy and worshipful.

We spend what seems like forever like that on the couch, kissing, touching, tasting, breathing the same breath as though we were one. I abandon myself to her completely as I never have with anyone else, shivering as her hands pass over my stomach and breasts, a tingle of pleasure running through me, centering where she touches me but the feeling spreading, radiating outwards from her hands, running through my body like fire and sending chills up and down my spine. I let her touch me where no one has, but then again, she’s not touching me like anyone else has.

Jen pulls away from me, looking up and over me, and all I can process is how absolutely gorgeous she looks in that moment. Her head cocked ever so slightly, hair a bit mussed. I reach up and smooth it out, letting the silky strands slide through my fingers. I try to pull her down into another kiss, but she shushes me, resisting my pull. She puts a finger to my lips and I gently pull it into my mouth and suck on it as I notice the movie has returned to its title screen, and I hear the slamming of a car door out front, signaling the return of our father from work.

*****

Jen
She kissed me, she actually kissed me! Not at all a sisterly kiss either. It was everything I’d ever imagined, and more. Our eyes are locked but she breaks the contact and looks away. Is she going to apologize? Or worse, yet, say it was horrid and wrong and that we should never speak of it again, much less do it again? God, I can’t let that happen. I don’t even hear the words when she starts talking, I just have to kiss her again… and again, and again. She seems to melt back and I follow her, not willing to let our contact be broken again. This is heaven.

It’s almost like making love with our mouths, penetrating deep inside one another, sharing the most intimate, hidden pieces of ourselves, all in a kiss. The wetness, the softness of her lips, breathing in as she breathes out, just as we did that day. My hands start roaming of their own volition, first over her sides, then I push myself up on one elbow so my other hand is free to slide over her stomach and hips, eventually straying ever farther upwards, skirting around the swells of her breasts and then finally gently cupping one, then the other, my thumb finding her nipples tense under her shirt, tracing around them and then passing over them. They’re supple and soft in my hand, nothing like touching my own… I could get lost in this, and I do for a long time.

To feel her soft moans in my mouth, the vibrations sending shivers through me and her body’s writhing almost enough to make me come. Then I more feel than see the light, only for a moment but enough to catch my attention. I push myself up, listening for a sound that might indicate Dad’s arrival. I know she’s looking at me, trying to get my attention again — her fingers running through my hair is a distraction, and how I wish I could let her pull me down when she tries.

My heart leaps with joy when I realize what Lana just did. Maybe it’s just the heat of the moment, but she wants more—her other hand is still sliding over my back, and I almost tremble with the effort of resisting her, putting a finger on those soft, still wet lips to keep her quiet. She begins sucking on my forefinger, the soft yet almost rough surface of her tongue teasing at its tip.

My body is quivering and I’m about to return to her when I hear it, the car door closing, heralding a major disruption. She’s caught on as well and we move like one, I sit up and snatch the remote, going for a random scene selection as she sits up, smoothing her hair and adjusting her clothes, then giving me a smile that tempts me to kiss her again. Instead I just lean against her and pull the afghan down over us, and we’re curled up, innocent as can be, when Dad comes through the door.

He gives us a brief nod, looking tired as always, then heads upstairs without even asking about dinner. Once he’s out of sight we both let out soft sighs of relief, and I wonder if she was holding her breath like I was.

I glance over at her, grinning my fool head off, and a smile slowly spreads on her face as well, until neither of us can hold back the giggles. We collapse against one another, giggling like mad. Her arms slide around me once again and I eventually come to rest, head on her shoulder, face against her neck, curled in against her, stroking her neck with my fingertips. I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs with the perfume of her skin and her hair before giving her neck a soft nuzzle.

“Lana?”

“Yeah?” she asks, kissing my hair before burying her face in it, seemingly enjoying the closeness as much as I am.

“I love you.”

She’s quiet for a moment, but it’s not a tense quiet. She squeezes me gently, nuzzling the top of my head and planting a few kisses before responding, lending the quiet a soft affection rather than weighing it down with anxiety.

“I love you too, my little miscreant.” I can hear the smile in her voice and I laugh softly, giving one of her nipples a little tweak. She hums out a soft noise of pleasure and frustration, sliding one of her hands down to give me a light smack on the butt. I can’t help but grin and giggle and soon we’re giddy again, laughing softly, mindful of Dad’s presence upstairs.

*****

Lana
Dear God, she’s beautiful. Lying against me like this, small and vulnerable and sweet, sheltering against my body, I can feel her adoration and love running through me. I’m in one of those moments of pure contentment, the bliss of emotion without thought. Feeling like this I can understand why she likes sleeping with me so much. I hold her close and never want to let her go.

Her hair has a strange, subtle fragrance. It makes me feel almost high, though I know that’s more because of what we’ve been doing than any actual component of the scent—but it’s gorgeous regardless. It’s just like her presence. Understated, delicate, hard to define and utterly intoxicating.
Somewhere in the back of my brain a voice is trying to scream at me, tell me this is wrong. It’s amazingly easy to ignore it, though. She seems so perfect right now and it felt so right—feels so right. I love her and she loves me. What could be wrong with that?

I idly stroke her hair and actually start paying attention to the movie, in a vague sort of way. Her steady breathing lulls me into a perfect state of calm, the rhythms of my heart, my hand and her chest gently rising and falling, all blending together to create a trancelike beat. By the end of the movie there are soft tears slipping down my cheeks, its statements of love and loss having taken root in my heart. I give the top of her head a kiss and make a promise to myself first, and then to her.

“Jen.” She looks up at me, smiling faintly.

“Good movie, eh?”

“I’ll never leave you. Never. No matter what.”

She just smiles and settles in against me once again. That’s all the response I need. No questions, no return vows. Her body speaks of trust and faith and devotion more eloquently than any writer or poet could. I’m everything to her, or I will be. Such an odd thought. I’m her big sister, the closest she’s ever known to a mother… and now… I know in my heart where this might lead, but I can’t bring myself to think of it like that yet. Yet. Someday, maybe even someday soon…

*****

Jen
We just lie there for a while after the movie ends. Everything too perfect to want to move and ruin it. Or maybe just afraid that if we move it will be ruined. Finally I push myself up, out of her arms and she watches me as I stand. Hey eyes are like dark pools, her hair a dark golden red sheet where the light is hitting it, and I smile down at her as I offer my hand. This isn’t normal, she’s usually the one in charge. Even so, I guide her to a standing position and slide my arms around her neck, pulling her into a soft, closed-mouth kiss.

No, nothing has changed, nothing has been ruined by getting up. So I slide a hand down and take one of hers, leading her slowly upstairs to her room. I simply shed my jeans and watch her as she slowly gets changed, right there in front of me. Her back is to me, but somehow that makes it all the more tantalizing.

She pulls her shirt up, slowly exposing the small of her back, then the smooth expanses up to her shoulder blades, divided by the line of her spine. My mouth  is dry, remembering the feel of that soft, white skin under my hands, its smoothness and warmth. She pulls the shirt off over her head, the muscles of her back flexing and sliding smoothly under her skin. I want to reach out and touch her, but instead I just watch. She takes what seems like an eternity to slide her pants down and off, exposing first the firm, rounded curve of her ass, covered only by white bikini underwear… white cotton… so very her.

It’s hard to swallow and my heart is thundering as my eyes take in the smooth, taut lengths of her legs. Her thighs, the curves running down to her calves, long and toned, her skin, fair and almost luminous, no matter how hard she tries to tan. She leans over and steps out of her pants, and I want to feel her back and legs as she moves them, all of her actions slow and deliberate.

I remember how she writhed and quivered beneath me, the heat that was nearly exploding off of both of our bodies. I spy a brief glimpse of a wet patch on her underwear as she straightens, evidence of the effect I had on her. It almost makes me proud of myself. I can’t focus on just one part as she stands there before me, shrouded only in her hair and her panties. My eyes greedily slide over every inch of her I can see, devouring the visage of her flowering womanhood.

Her hips are a soft curve, the lines of her sides stretching upwards, her legs down. She’s standing on one foot, the other bent and gently toeing the carpet next to her firmly planted foot. I can imagine her chewing her lip, deciding on what to wear. I can’t fathom what would make it a hard decision but I’ll enjoy her deliberations, nonetheless.

Not one movement is lost on me, all my attention is so focused on her. She crosses her arms across her chest for a moment then rests a hand on her hip, her body taking on a new posture that illuminates new aspects of her form, the flow of her stances, her stunning grace.

She finally reaches into her closet, pulling out an old dress shirt of Dad’s, worn soft through years of wear. She pulls it on and turns around without buttoning it, smiling as I gape at the strip of naked flesh, running from below her navel all the way up, over her firm stomach to her chest, just barely showing the beginning of the swells of her breasts, to the hollow of her throat.

I feel as if I’m frozen as she walks over to me, sitting on the edge of her bed, and cradles my head to her chest. My arms move of their own volition around her waist and I kiss the smooth valley at the center of her chest, slowly standing and letting my mouth wander up over her collarbone and neck. Her sighs and moans into my ear are soft but heartfelt, and we fall back onto the bed.

Between kisses we slowly right ourselves on the bed and slide under the covers. Our legs twine together as eagerly as our tongues and we wrap around one another, getting fully entangled, breathing deeply when the kisses stop.  I look into those soft, aqua eyes of hers and love everything I see there. Her smile is brilliant, even in the darkness.

“I love you, you sweet, sweet thing.” Her voice is soft, but clear in the silence of the house. “How long have you been thinking about, well, this?”

I can feel myself blushing and looking away, but she catches my chin and gives me a lingering kiss, sending a chill down my spine and causing me to press in against her body.

“Jen, there’s nothing to be ashamed of, nothing you can’t share with me. Haven’t we proven that already?”

“Well, we haven’t done everything yet…” I try for a bit of an impish grin, not fully understanding my embarrassment but wanting to hide it all the same.

Her laugh is like a silver chime, cutting through my darker feelings and leaving only the urge to laugh along with her. I smile, looking to her willingly again, shaking my head a bit.

“Well? You haven’t answered me.” She’s smiling in return, and stroking my cheek. Her eyes are curious but not judgmental, warm and loving. How can I resist a look like that?

“Since after the accident. I mean, it was terrifying… You were bloody and not moving… I kissed you then. I mean… we kind of kissed. I don’t know what I meant. It’s not all clear…” I’m blushing again, stumbling over my words until her finger on my lips shushes me. She’s got a wry little smile on her lips and her eyes are sparkling with amusement.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember our fist kiss then. It might have made things easier on you if I had; then again, who knows how I would’ve reacted then. The important thing is now. I love you, you love me. We both know it, we’re both dealing with it, right?” All I can do is nod. “Let’s not rush into things though, no reason to hurry through what we might enjoy a whole lot.” She’s smiling, a tinge of wickedness in her eyes. I think it’s the sexiest look she’s ever given me, inviting, teasing, but still loving.

I settle in against her, lightly kissing her neck and nestling my head on her shoulder again. Slowly I drift off to sleep, keeping her close, kissing and lightly sucking on her neck as she strokes my hair, listening to her heartbeat. Sleep has never come so easily.

Continue on to Chapter 4

Another Night Wasted, Chapter 2

  • Posted on November 18, 2017 at 10:06 am

By Jane Doe

Lana
Lucy and I are walking down the clogged hallways to my locker, talking about class, boys, who said what about who… normal high school topics. Actually, it’s mostly her talking, and I just listen and smile and nod at the right times. Or laugh when I can’t help it.

I’m rummaging through my locker, looking for my calculus book when her chattering trails off, and she nudges my arm gently. Not much could stop her from talking, so I give her a questioning look and she’s looking past me, a charming smile on her lips that’s usually reserved for boys of interest.

I let my gaze shift and follow hers, and to my great surprise I find Dean Radcliff sidling up next to me, leaning against the lockers and looking about as suave as any guy I’ve ever known could. His dark hair perfectly tousled just so, shaggy enough to offset his light blue eyes, sparkling clear and surrounded by dark lashes. He’s got just a faint smile, showing off his straight white teeth between his faintly pink lips, softer and fuller than most boys, at least in look.

And to my shock, I have this minor godling of masculine sex appeal close by, with me as his object of attention… and what do I feel? Nothing at all, really.

I must have looked as puzzled as I felt because his smile widens and takes on a vaguely reassuring aspect.

He offers his hand. “Hey, I’m Dean. You’re Lana, right?”

I take his hand lightly and he gives mine a gentle squeeze, leaning down and planting a soft kiss on my knuckles. The cogs in my head are whirling, and any normal girl would be weak in the knees and totally enchanted by this point. What the hell is wrong with me? All I want is to be normal, but then why–

I realize he’s watching me expectantly, and even so it takes me a moment to find my tongue.

“Yeah, I’m Lana… nice to meet you, Dean.” I think my voice is a bit weak as I speak, but I don’t suppose he finds that strange. Oddly enough, that idea makes me a bit angry. Guys like him and Craig, thinking they can charm girls into putty so they can do as they please.

He smiles again and gives my hand another gentle squeeze before letting it go. “The pleasure is all mine. I heard you and Craig had a little split, I take it you told him where… well, he couldn’t shove it?”

“Yeah, that I did. And he wasn’t too pleased about it. But really, if that was all he was interested in I can do a lot better.” I pull my calculus book out, wondering if maybe I’ve just been put off boys in general by the whole Craig experience.

“In that case… I was hoping you might give me a try.” His shy smile seems plastic to me, like it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Maybe Friday would work for you?”

I think for a moment, desperate for an excuse before I realize I don’t have to make one up. “Sorry, I promised my sister I’d chill with her on Friday. You know, girls night in.”

“Ah, that’s cool. Well, why don’t you pick a day, then?” He looks a bit downcast, but somehow I can’t bring myself to be sympathetic, as once again it doesn’t quite ring genuine.

“How about I call you and let you know? You’re in the directory, right?”

“Yeah, my number’s there. And if you need a bit more time before you want to date again or whatever, that’s cool too. Just think of me first, okay?” He seems a bit happier at the avoidance of a straight shoot down, and I’m wondering if perhaps I’m being a bit harsh.

“Sure thing Dean, I’ll talk to you later.” I say with a smile as I close my locker and turn to head for calculus class, Lucy right at my elbow.

I can feel her wanting to burst, I’m sure she had just as much going through her head during that exchange as I did. Finally when we’re down the hall and around the corner the dam breaks.

“Oh. My. God! I can’t believe you just did that! Turning down a date with Dean for your little sister!? Are you insane?” She spouts it all with such drama, as though the words were positively ripped from her throat.

“What? I promised her… and I don’t break promises. Anyways. I mean, who says I always have to be dating someone?”

“That wasn’t `someone,’ that was Dean Radcliff! Come on, he has to be like the hottest, smartest, most charming and most eligible guy in school! And you blew him off for your sister?”

“It’s been hard on her since we got here… she doesn’t make friends too easily, she really relies on me.”

“Well, maybe if she wasn’t such a little freak, she’d have an easier time making friends. You shouldn’t have to suffer for her social issues.”

I’m not really sure what happened then. Anger boiled up inside me like a burning, living thing. I stopped dead in my tracks and glared at her, and the heated venom in my belly must have shown in my face because she almost wilted.

“Never, ever talk about Jen like that,” I hissed. “You don’t even fucking know her!”

Seething, I headed off to class. As I calmed down my thoughts returned to my lack of interest in Dean — or really, any other guy. Maybe I’m just not ready for any kind of relationship so soon after the Craig fiasco. But as I continue thinking about it, I’m asking myself, What do I really find attractive about boys?

I think back to all of my past boyfriends — how I felt about them, what kind of relationships we had. They were all distant, it seems to me. We were generally there to look good together, and in middle school, that makes sense. And the affection part is nice, even if it’s been kisses and not much else.

I was beginning to wonder: am I even interested in having a serious boyfriend?

When it comes to guys, what I think of as my “type” is so incredibly generic it’s silly. Basically, my type is what any father would want his son to be. Handsome, generally good at sports, decently intelligent or at least sweet… In retrospect, I think the guy I liked best was actually probably the dimmest one I’ve dated.  But even then, was there any genuine chemistry between us? I don’t think so.

So if I don’t want a boyfriend, what do I want? I mean, I’m young and I don’t have to figure everything out right now, but I should get some sort of clue. I certainly don’t like the idea of going through life alone. I scan the classroom and ponder.

Lucy doesn’t find me again until after school, when she slinks up, almost like a scared cat. Seeing the apologetic look on her face, I can’t stay mad at her — one look at her deep brown eyes and my anger seems to melt away.

“Hey, Lana, I’m really sorry… I was just…” She looks so hesitant and apologetic.

I just smile and throw an arm around her shoulders. “It’s okay, Lucy, I’m sorry I got so angry. She’s my little sister and I’m a bit overprotective, I guess.”

She grins up at me, eyes sparkling happily, and slides her own arm around my waist.

Maybe this is what I want.

*****

Jen
I headed out to the parking lot, scanning about for my sister. It only took a moment to spot her over by our car, goofing off with Lucy. I paused and just looked on for a moment, watching her and Lucy laughing and talking. To see her smiling like that, so happy and free. In that moment I love her all the more. It makes me feel like my heart is going to burst, but in a good way.

I jog on over, darting in and half-tackling my big sis, making her squeal happily and clutch at me to keep from falling over. I can’t help but laugh and begin a tickle assault on her, because mercy is for the weak. Unfortunately, I made a miscalculation. I might be able to take on Lana, but her and Lucy at the same time? Not likely. Soon I was reduced to a giggling mess trying to shelter myself against the car.

They relent in their attacks and I slowly regain my breath, still breaking into giggles now and then, grinning up at them. Mostly at Lana. Her hair is a bit mussed, blowing in the breeze and her cheeks are flushed bright pink, a gorgeous smile as radiant as the sun itself lingering on her lips. Then a thought occurs to me.

“Shotgun!” I call out as I lunge and slide over the hood to the passenger side, nearly falling as I reach the edge of the car. Lana looks briefly stunned before collapsing into gales of laughter, and Lucy chases after me protesting and seeking to renew the tickle assault. Too bad for her she’s lost her cohort in crime. We wrestle about tickling one another and trying to take control of the front passenger side door until Lana, always the responsible one, ends it.

“Come on Lucy, fair is fair, she called it.” She’s still smiling happily as she says it, and I grin triumphantly at the little brunette. “Now both of you get in before I make you walk home.”

We scramble into the car like chastised little children, and once Lana is satisfied we’ve calmed down enough to not be a danger to ourselves or anyone else on the road, we take off. Soon the two of them are chatting away about whatever `important’ is going on at school and I just relax, staring out the window and enjoying the feel of them there.

Somehow paying attention only to their voices instead of what they’re saying makes me happy inside. It’s like by filtering out the supposed meaning and simply listening to the music of their voices, I can hear what they’re really trying to say. Or maybe I’m just hearing what they feel. Regardless, I’m flying high and so are they… and that’s what’s important, isn’t it?

I’m pretty far out there and contemplating what happiness might taste like, or if the color blue feels fuzzy to the touch — then Lucy pokes my shoulder.

“Hey, you! You should be feeling really special right about now. You have a not only awesome but also incredibly devoted sister.”

“Well, yeah, I’ve known that for years. It’s taken you this long to catch that newsflash?” I retort, smiling back at her over my shoulder. I notice Lana blushing a bit out of the corner of my eye and it makes me feel even more proud to have a sister like her.

“Hah! You don’t even know what happened today!” She gives me a smug smirk of sorts and glances over at Lana, also noting her discomfort.

“It’s no big deal, really.” Lana chimes in, waving a hand dismissively as she drives.

“The hell it isn’t, it’s a Dean Radcliff big fucking deal!” Lucy rolls her eyes, as though despairing at the idea of Lana comprehending the gravity of the situation. And my curiosity is perked.

“So then, who is this Dean guy and why is he such a big fucking deal?” I ask, raising an eyebrow at Lucy — doubly curious now that Lana seems to be getting a tad irate.

Lucy gives us yet another dramatic eye roll, as though she were a long suffering missionary delivering the truth unto bored heathens. “Dean Radcliff is only like the hottest, most eligible guy in school. And your big sister turned him down to spend a night watching movies with you! A decision I will never understand.” She settles back in her seat, shaking her head and looking at my sister as though she’s mad as a hatter.

I glance over at Lana, surprised to see that her cheeks have reddened another shade or so. Not only that, she seems to be rather occupied with driving and keeping stray locks of hair brushed back from her face.

She glances over at me ever so briefly, making eye contact for a fraction of a second before returning her gaze to the road. “It’s no big deal, really. When I want to date again, I will. Some of us don’t have to have a boyfriend twenty-four seven, y’know!”

They begin arguing about the importance of boyfriends and I tune them out again. She’d really rather spend a night with me than with this supposedly hot guy. I mean… I don’t know him or anything, so it’s not like I can make a judgment, but she definitely did choose me over a guy, one that maybe wants to be her boyfriend.

I don’t think I stopped smiling all the way home. I know there’s not really any chance of being anything more to her. But I think I can be happy enough with this.

*****

Lana
I was almost relieved when we got home and Jen stayed downstairs to hang out with Lucy and me. I hadn’t even thought about it, but when she plopped down on the couch next to me and started a minor war over the remote control, I couldn’t help but smile and shake my head.

Jen wrestled the remote away from her nemesis and began flipping through the channels like the true surfer she is, so I figured it was time for me to intervene. I wrapped my arms around her, leaning in close over her shoulder and planted a lingering kiss on her cheekbone. She seemed sufficiently stunned when she turned her head and stared at me, so I then lightly plucked the remote from her hands, landing on some old episodes of The Golden Girls. I suppose there’s nothing like old women making jokes about sex to get us all chattering and laughing like twelve-year-olds, and we end up having a really good time.

It got late far too fast, so rather than making something I opt for the lazy way out and order pizza with the discretionary allowance Dad makes available in case I need groceries when he’s out.

Jen almost seems a little disappointed when Lucy gets the okay from her parents to spend the night; another plus to having Dad pretty much let me run the house. When we finally head to bed she seems a bit surprised when I demand she stick with us and share my bed, as usual. The three of us fit in it just fine, so why the heck not? And that disappointment vanishes like fog after the sun has risen.

Funny; as it is, Jen just can’t seem to stay awake most of the time in my bed, in stark contrast to her insomnia when she’s alone. She drops off fairly early and Lucy and I stay up, whispering in the dark.

Lying there between my best friend and my little sister, the vague curiosity that I had pushed to the back of my brain muscles its way to the forefront. Curled up on our sides, nearly face to face, nose to nose, Lucy and I talk softly, her voice reverberating through me, her eyes nearly black in the darkness, like dark pools drawing me in. Her lips are curled in a soft smile that seems almost inviting, and I can feel the heat of her body close to mine.

I can feel her warmth flowing into me and those eyes… it’s so easy to get lost in them. I wonder what she’s thinking and what her lips taste like. The curiosity and longing take root in my mind and grow, sprouting like a weed and taking over my thoughts. I’m not even really listening to her anymore. So I decide to cast caution to the wind for once in my life, and just interrupt her.

“Lucy, have you ever, you know… messed around with another girl?”

Her eyes widen for a moment, a bit surprised and then she smiles slyly.

“Oh dear lord, does this mean the good girl has discovered her sex drive?”

I can feel the blood rising to my cheeks, and I’m sure the embarrassment shows on my face in ways other than just blushing.

“I was just wondering, I mean…” My courage has fled off to somewhere in the distance and I’m wilting a bit inside, but she gives me a knowing smile.

“You mean you got used to getting a bit of attention with Craig, but now you don’t have him and aren’t ready for a new guy? It’s not that strange, hon, a lot of girls I know have tried it. After all, guys really like watching that kind of thing.” With that she giggles softly, grinning.

“Yeah… something like that.” How could I tell her that I just don’t think guys are my thing? How could I say that I find her infinitely more sexually attractive than guys at school, even Dean? As much faith as I have in her as my best friend, she’s just too boy crazy. I don’t think she’d ever understand. So… it’s easier just to go with what she says, let the subject drop.

But then she smiles at me again, an excitement in her eyes that makes me quiver inside. “So then… you wanna give it a try?”

Breathlessly I nod, and she pushes me back on the bed, leaning over me. I’m dizzy with anticipation as she moves in close, her hair falling down around my face, locking out the rest of the world and hiding us behind a mahogany veil of silken softness. I lift a hand and gently brush my fingertips along her jaw line, taking in the sweetness of her skin, the smoothness of her cheek, marveling at the feel of her.

Finally her lips meet mine, softly, delicately, so gently… our lips press together in a veritable symphony of sensations, her smell and feel, her warmth above me, her lightness is intoxicating. Everything is so different, so gentle and refined, nothing at all like Craig’s gropings and grabbings. It’s so wonderful and so close to perfect, I lose myself in it as her lips part, her tongue presses gently into my mouth and a perfectly choreographed dance begins, our mouths locked together and tongues entwined…

Suddenly there’s a jerk in bed beside us, and a startled Lucy pulls away. I just barely catch a glimpse of Jen darting out of the room. The door slams behind her and I look up at Lucy, her face mirroring my own puzzlement.

After a moment I get up and try to follow after, heading down the hallway and searching for my little sister. But she’s nowhere to be found. I search downstairs and then return up into her room, just in case she slipped in there before I followed her… but nothing. She’s simply vanished.

*****

Jen
It’s cold outside. I didn’t know where else to run. I can’t face her right now. The siding is frigid against my back and the roofing tiles are rough and harsh on my feet and legs. I let out a long, slow breath and watch the steam it causes drift in the cold night air. Hot tears burn down my cheeks as I turn my gaze to the sky, a dull orange vault overhead.

I hate this place. When we lived in Arizona the sky was almost always clear. Millions of stars shone in the sky every night, the Milky Way a dense band across the sky, almost like some cosmic mother’s milk taunting me, eternally out of reach while somehow offering my soul a strange kind of sustenance. A feeling of not being alone. God, I wish I could see it now. I hate this place and its cloudy sky, the snow, the rain, all of it.

If we were still in Arizona, none of this would have happened. No snow, no crash, none of this. I’d still be blind to her. Ignorance was bliss. I was stupid to think I could really be happy after all that. To think I could be happy, only having her as a sister.

But why the fuck did it have to be Lucy? Why on God’s green earth did it have to be her? Who knows how many dicks that mouth has sucked, what could Lana like so much about that plastic slut?

The tears flow faster, I feel like I want to punch the side of the house, to feel blood flow like the hot salty wetness on my cheeks. I want to scream, to let out everything inside me. To give the emotional pain a physical mirror and maybe just bring an end to all of it. It’s like a rusty knife has been shoved through my heart, sharp enough to puncture, blade rough like the roof under my bare feet, grabbing and ripping the flesh around the wound. It makes me feel sick, like I’m going to puke or maybe I’ll just choke, suffocated because it hurts too much to breathe.

Lana isn’t even into girls, but she was kissing Lucy… or Lucy was kissing her. But I heard something. A noise woke me up. And as much as I try to tell myself it wasn’t Lana, I know in that torn up heart of mine that it was. I’ve been dreaming of that kind of little moan for too long not to recognize it.

The urge to lash out wells up in me again and I have to hold it back. I’ve got to be quiet. I can’t let her find me. Fuck, I wish I had a cigarette out here. But I have to wait, wait for Lana to stop looking for me. I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t look her in the eyes, those gorgeous, soft blue eyes. I know how she’d look, I know the confusion that would be there and I know she’d look hurt too. Her pain would fold into mine and I’d scream at her and at Lucy… Lucy would take the brunt of it, I’m sure.

I couldn’t look in Lana’s eyes too long, I’d have to turn away and that would have me turning to that little whore Lucy and screaming at her like I was demented, I’m sure. Dad would wake up and then the shit would really get flying. So I have to stay quiet. Stay silent, stay hidden. For both of us.

I can’t get the image out of my head, or the sound. That tiny sound, just the faintest little moan of pleasure that was enough to wake me. Then to open my eyes and see them. To see Lucy half on top of my sister, to see their lips pressed together, mouths open to each other and sealed off from the rest of the world.

My heart lurches in my chest again, seemingly trying to free itself of my rib cage, maybe so it could jump off the roof. It’s an odd little image that almost makes me smile. But as the anger recedes I’m left with nothing but pain, pain and the urge to jump. If only it were six or seven stories higher.

So all I can do is stay quiet, and wait… God, I want a cigarette.

*****

Lana
I make my way back to my room, confused and more than a bit worried. Lucy is waiting in there for me, and when I walk in she gives me a questioning look. I just shake my head.

“No idea where she went… it’s not like this place is that big. I’m worried.”

Lucy gives me a half smile and takes my hand for a moment. “It’s okay, hon, I mean, she’s a tough li’l girl. I don’t get why she flipped out, though…” She looks down at the hand she’s holding, chewing on her lower lip lightly. “I mean, she’s definitely not the type I would expect to be paranoid about catching the gay or whatever.”

She’s right. I mean, Jen has had gay friends before, she’s not a homophobe or anything. I nod a bit in response to her and we contemplate it quietly. So if it had nothing to do with that kind of freak out, why would she? Then it hits me, and my jaw drops for a moment.

“Lucy… you don’t think she could be maybe… and then, if she was, you know… into you?”

I watch my best friend for a response and the same slow dawn of comprehension comes over her. She stares up at me, wide eyed. “Wow… I mean, I wouldn’t have thought, but that would explain things. Wouldn’t it? But… I so wouldn’t think I’d be her type.” Her look of puzzlement is comical, and I can’t help but giggle a bit.

“What, you don’t think she’d go for a girly girl? Maybe that’s why she’s so anti-mainstream.” I crack half a grin, hiding the relief I feel at having figured out a reason for Jen’s abrupt departure and subsequent disappearance. “It’s a love/hate thing. She resents the Gap girls and cheerleaders for making her want them so bad, but then she still wants them…”

Lucy giggles, lying back down on my bed. “So then, what do we do? I mean… about the whole thing?”

I sigh, looking back towards the door. “Well… for now, I think we let her go. I’ll talk to her tomorrow. She’s my little sister. I can live without… well, you know. Especially if it keeps her from being hurt. Cool?”

“Totally cool. She really is lucky to have a sister like you.” Lucy grins as I climb back into bed as well. “I woulda just been like, `Well… fuck her, who cares. I wanna have fun!’”

I laugh and pull up the covers around us, settling in, returning her grin. “Yeah, maybe so, but that’s cause you’re a selfish bitch.”

Her eyes go wide and, still smiling, she pulls her pillow out from under her head and whacks me with it, then begins to laugh. Soon we settle in and she’s drifting off again — but I can’t stop thinking, or worrying, about Jen.

It would make sense. Everything would fit if she had a crush on Lucy or something. She stayed downstairs with us, hung out with us all night without even being asked to. It fits, but it still doesn’t quite feel right. So, with a nagging feeling of doubt, I let myself slip off into a troubled sleep.

*****

Jen
I wait as long as I can stand the cold. It wouldn’t be so bad if I just had some pants. As I climb back in through my window I’m shivering and my fingers and toes are numb, my head hurts from crying and my cheeks sting from wind on wet tears. All is quiet, I seem to have avoided Lana’s search fairly well.

The first thing I go for is some heavier pajamas, flannel pants and a thermal weave top. Then straight to the bathroom, I draw a hot bath after locking the door behind me. As I watch the water fill the tub I’m drawn back to thoughts of pain… of making the blood flow as freely as my tears. They’re dark thoughts, but somehow comforting.

Finally I slip into the liquid warmth, the heat bringing full feeling and life back to my limbs, relaxing the stiff muscles. That brings its own twinges. The shock of the hot water on my cold skin… maybe that’s enough pain for now. Lana would freak if I actually went through with hurting myself in some fashion. Maybe that’s a reason to go through with it.

So many maybes. So many what-ifs. I need to stop being such a fucking drama queen. Give up on it. What does it all matter? I don’t honestly believe that with all the maybes and what-ifs in the world that she’d actually go for me. That especially includes the “What if she wasn’t my sister?” and “Maybe she’s into girls,” fantasies.

God, I’m fucking pathetic. I can’t even manage to find someone outside my own damn family to obsess on.

I brood in the tub until the water goes cold, then return to my room. As always I return to old habits — pacing the floor, smoking cigarettes and a bit of my private stash, taking the edge off my wandering mind. All too soon it’s starting to get light out. I still can’t face Lana, can’t look her or her hormonal sidekick in the eye. So I get dressed and start to walk. It’s going to be a long week.

Continue on to Chapter 3

Dancing on the Edge, Chapter 4

  • Posted on November 17, 2017 at 11:15 am

By Jos Mous

A day passed. And another. And another. And in that time, little was said. Certain subjects got carefully avoided. There are just some things you don’t talk about.

Then one night, Mac got fed up with it. She was tired of lying alone in bed touching herself, thinking of Sam while it was very possible that she could simply be with Sam. Mac got out of bed, walked over to her closet and took out a nightshirt. She normally slept in the nude and hadn’t been very happy when Sam had insisted on buying it for her, but now it came in very handy.

Mac left her room, entered Sam’s room, walked over to the bed and stopped, wondering how to proceed from here. She knelt down on the floor and looked at the sleeping woman. It was dark, so she couldn’t see much, but she could still recognize the similarities between them. Mac suspected that if Sam had been the odd seventeen years younger, the two of them might’ve passed for twins.

Mac hesitantly reached out and softly stroked the woman’s hair. In her sleep, Sam gave a little sigh of contentment.

“Sam?” Mac whispered. She waited for a moment, then said her sister’s name again, a little louder this time.

“Hmm?” Sam said, slowly opening her eyes. “Mac?”

Mac smiled and drew her hand back. “Yeah.”

“What are you doing here? It’s the middle of the night.”

“I know, but… we need to talk.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“No,” said Mac. “We’ll just avoid the issue again.”

Sam sighed. “Okay, talk.”

“I love you, Sam. More than I should. And you told me you loved me too.”

“I know what I said,” Sam said softly. “That doesn’t mean anything.”

“But it does, Sam. I love you, I want to be with you.”

“I know Mac — and I admit it, I feel the same way, but… people won’t understand.”

“Sam, I don’t give a rat’s ass about people’s opinions. And you shouldn’t either.”

“But, Mac…”

“Sam, look me in the eyes and tell me that you don’t love me enough to have some kind of relationship with me, and I’ll leave and won’t bring up the subject ever again.”

“Mac, that’s not fair.”

“Tell me, Sam. Say the words and I’ll go.”

Sam looked up and into her sister’s eyes. They say the eyes are the mirrors of the soul. Sam wasn’t entirely convinced that this was true. But even in the darkness, she could see things there. Fear, anger, anguish, pain, love. Sam knew perfectly well she had feelings for her sister that she shouldn’t, but thought that she could simply ignore them until Mac found someone of her own age to fall in love with, someone who wasn’t related to her.

But as Sam gazed at her baby sister, she could see that wasn’t going to happen. Mac had already made her decision, if it was possible to decide who you were going to love.

“Mac, I…”

“Yeah?”

“I want you to realise the consequences, if we’re really going to do this. You can’t tell anybody, we can’t openly share affection, we have to keep this a complete secret.”

“Does that mean that we… you know…”

“Yes,” Sam said. “God help me, but if you really love me, then… maybe we can make it work.”

Mac smiled and hesitantly leaned forward. When she noticed that Sam wasn’t going to back away, she drew closer still and kissed her.

She had kissed and been kissed before, but not like this. Never like this. She’d been kissed just before sex and even a few times during sex. Those kisses had been hungry and impatient, something to fill the time before the fucking got started.

But this…

This was strange… gentle. It didn’t feel as good as an orgasm, but it did make her feel better than when she had an orgasm. It made her feel…

Loved.

Mac had never been loved before. She rather liked the feeling.

The kiss ended the way it had started: slow, soft and tender.

“Wow,” said Mac.

“Yeah,” said Sam.

“Sam, can I… can I sleep with you… I mean, in your bed, with you, not in the… well, you know…”

Sam smiled. “Of course you can.”

Mac quickly got into bed and felt Sam’s arms around her, pulling her closer. The girl revelled in the feeling. It was like the kiss in a way, something wasn’t exactly sexual, but simply loving.

“I love you, Sam.”

“I love you too, Mac.”

Mac reached up, Sam reached down and their lips met again. During the kiss, the two sisters tried to pull themselves as close to each other as they could, hands roaming backs, legs twining. Almost on automatic, one of Mac’s hands left Sam’s back, slid to her stomach, then down.

“Mac…” Sam gasped, breaking the kiss.

“Sam, I want to make love to you. Please?”

“If you do that, there really will be no going back.”

“Sam, there was no more going back ever since the day I rang your doorbell.”

Sam smiled. “That’s true, I guess.”

“So?”

Sam briefly stroked Mac’s cheek with her hand and kissed her. “Do what you will, little sister. I’m yours.”

*****

It was some time later. Sam didn’t really know how much later. From the moment Mac had first kissed her, time had stopped having meaning.

Mac was sleeping peacefully, using her body as a pillow. The few items they’d been wearing were scattered around the bed. Her younger sister had made love to her. It didn’t feel dirty, as she’d expected. Instead, Sam felt as if things were right for the very first time in her life.

Sam knew that she shouldn’t feel like this. Maybe it should bother her that she didn’t feel guilt.

After Mac had so expertly driven her to a peak, she had wanted to repay the favour and had made love to her sister. Unlike Mac, Sam had never been with a woman before, and at first she hadn’t really known what to do. But Mac had patiently guided Sam each step of the way until…

Eyes closed, face scrunched up, Mac had shouted a single word.

Sam’s name.

And in that cry, Mac had somehow managed to convey how much she loved her big sister. It was sick, wrong, twisted and disgusting.

But Sam didn’t care. She wasn’t certain if she loved Mac as much as the girl loved her, but she wasn’t going to let her sister notice the difference.

Sam kissed the sleeping girl’s hair, closed her eyes and tried to get a little sleep as well.

*****

Sam was sitting on the couch in the living room with both arms around Mac, who was half sitting, half lying on the couch. They hadn’t really talked again since that night. They had kissed and hugged and sometimes touched each other, but hadn’t spoken about it. Right now, words weren’t necessary and they both sensed that if they tried to simply sit down and really talk about what they’d done, everything would fall to pieces.

“Sam…” said Mac, slowly and reluctantly.

“Yes?”

“You know how I got pregnant?”

“You told me, yes.”

“And… you know how I got an abortion, right?”

“Yes.”

“Well… I sort of didn’t.”

“Oh.”

“Her name’s Jennifer. And I left her behind in the States with Dad.”

*****

Tickticktick…

“Mac?”

…tickticktick…

“Mac?”

…tickticktick…

“Yeah?”

…tickticktick…

“Are you… feeling nervous?”

…tickticktick…

“No. Why do you ask?”

…tickticktick…

“You seem to have developed a very endearing… err… tic.”

…tickticktick…

“What do you mean?”

…tickticktick…

“Well…”

…tickticktick…

Sam was sitting in a pretty comfortable plush blue chair. Mac was sitting next to her in a very similar chair. The younger girl’s right hand was constantly tapping the armrest while her eyes expressed a sense of cold terror.

“Are you afraid of flying, by any chance?” Sam asked.

…tickticktick…

“No.”

…tickticktick…

“Then how about you stop tapping your fingers on the end table?”

…tickticktick…

“What are you talking about?”

…tickticktick…

Sam sighed. For a moment, she wondered how the girl ever managed to get to Europe. Then she decided to take an approach that had been successfully used time and time again. Well, in the movies at least. She took Mac chin in her hand, turned the girl’s head so that it was now facing her and leaned in.

…ticktickti-

It was a small room of a small motel containing only a few small cockroaches. They had arrived here last night and had spent the night, which had been fairly pleasurable.

It had been a little less than two weeks that Sam had first made love to her sister and ever since then it had become more and more… natural. At first Sam had still been very ambiguous about the whole thing. Her mind kept insisting that having an affair with her sister was just plain wrong. But that voice had gradually faded and had been replaced with a voice that kept insisting that this relationship was not healthy for Mac’s mental well-being somehow. That this relationship would end up hurting Mac in the long run. Then that voice had faded as well.

Now, Sam was nothing but proud that she had been able to win her sister’s love. She knew full well that the entire rest of the world would disapprove if they ever found out, but she also knew that what she had with Mac was very real, and very right.

Now she could give her sister all the love she deserved. And Mac deserved plenty.

Sam smiled at her reflection in the mirror of the medicine cabinet. She put away her toothbrush and toothpaste, then left the tiny bathroom and stepped back into the small room. In the time that Sam had taken to brush her teeth, Mac had gotten up as well. Or at least, she had emerged from under the sheets. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back slightly so that her nakedness was clearly visible. Sam looked at her for a moment and felt the fire course through her body.

Not long ago, she still would have been ashamed of that reaction. Coming to terms with her love for Mac had been much easier that coming to terms with the desire she felt for her sister’s body. In any normal relationship, honest love was more important than pure lust. In an incestuous relationship, honest love was wrong — and pure lust was so incredibly wrong that there was no word strong enough to describe it.

Yes, she wanted her sister’s body.

Yes, such a desire was immoral.

And no, she didn’t really care about that anymore.

“Did I already mention I love you?” Sam said.

“Not since the three times when I woke up,” said Mac. The girl stretched lazily, arching her back.

“You’re not being very subtle, Mac,” said Sam, with a slight smile.

“Subtlety is relative,” said Mac. She stood up, ran her hands over her body once and slowly walked towards Sam, moving her body sensuously. When she was standing in front of Sam, she pulled the woman down into a searing kiss. “Come back to bed with me,” she whispered.

“I stand corrected,” said Sam.

“I wasn’t trying to prove a point,” said Mac. “Come on…”

“As much as I want to… no.”

Mac pouted. “Aww, please?” she said, her hands wandering in places that could just barely be classified as not intimate.

“Mac, we don’t want to keep your daughter waiting.”

Mac quickly stepped back, a frown on her face. “That wasn’t fair.”

“We’re not here to have fun,” said Sam.

“I know…” said Mac. “I just… I was just trying to forget.”

“Mac, do you honestly want Jennifer to grow up with Mike for a father?”

Damn it, Sam,” said Mac.

“I’m sorry,” said Sam. “But please, just get dressed and let’s go. The sooner we’re done, the better, right?”

“Yeah. Right.”

*****

Mac stood in front of the door. She stared at the doorbell. She looked at it for quite some time. Then she closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and rang. She stood still, realising that her body was shaking with dread. She felt a comforting hand slip into one of her own and give a slight squeeze. The dread didn’t leave.

Mac whimpered as the door opened to reveal the figure of Mike McQueen. It took the man a few seconds to take in who was standing in front of him. Then his face contorted into a mask of rage.

“Where the hell have you been?” he bellowed. “You’ve been gone for months!”

“I know,” said Mac, her voice small. “I’m sorry.”

Mike looked at Sam and didn’t recognise her. “I take it you’re the one who found her,” he said. “No doubt you walked in while she was screwing your son. Well, don’t worry, I’ll take care of her.”

“Actually, she came running to me when she left here,” said Sam.

“And now you’re here to bring the little troublemaker back,” said Mike. He turned back to look at Mac. “Haven’t you realised yet we’re all you’ve got!? No one would want a worthless little slut like you!”

Mac seemed to wilt before her father’s anger. “Yes, Daddy.”

Sam’s hands clenched, her jaw stiffened.

“I’m sorry for the inconvenience,” said Mike, looking back at Sam. “I’ll deal with her now.” Reaching out, he seized Mac’s arm, making the girl cry out in surprise and pain. “Get in the house, God damn you!”

Sam’s anger flared. She was against violence on principle, but she realised there were times when principles had to take a back seat. She pulled back with one fist, then let it rush forward, hitting Mike squarely in the face. Mike fell back, hit the ground and didn’t get up.

It took Sam a moment to calm herself. When she did, she noticed that Mac was trembling from head to toe.

“Mac?”

Mac had her eyes closed, she seemed to be talking to herself.

Instinctively, Sam pulled the girl into a hug. Mac broke out of her reverie and sobbed.

“Seventeen years,” she whimpered.

“It’s okay,” Sam said soothingly.

“I hate him,” Mac whispered.

“You should.”

“I hate you!” Mac screeched, freeing herself from Sam’s embrace and turning to the still unconscious body of her father. “I fucking hate you!”

She kicked Mike twice in the side. Sam stood by and watched impassively, than laid a hand on Mac’s shoulder.

“Go get Jennifer.”

Mac nodded and dashed into the house.

Sam remained outside, thinking. The whole scene had lasted less than a couple of minutes — not enough for her to understand what Mac had gone through for those seventeen long years, but had been more than enough to give her a little insight.

Loving her sister was wrong?

Well… even she still believed that, this would’ve erased the last traces of doubt. There were a lot of things in this world that were wrong and, apparently, Mac had experienced most of them first hand.

No, love was never wrong.

“Sam?”

Sam looked up and her residual anger drained away. “Mom?” she whispered.

“What’s going on?” Jane asked. She looked older. Well, of course she’d aged since last Sam saw her, but much more than she should have.

“I… punched Mike’s lights out,” Sam said.

“Why are you here?”

“Did you see Mac?”

Jane nodded. “Briefly, when she ran up the stairs.”

“Well, when she ran away here, she came to me. And now we’re here to pick up her baby.”

Jane nodded again. “Good. It’s for the best.”

“Mom, how are you?”

Jane sighed. “Not good.”

“Why are you still with Mike? Why didn’t you just pack up and leave when Mike turned out to be…”

“A total bastard?”

“Yeah.”

“I can’t, Sam,” said Jane.

“Why not? You can start over somewhere.”

“No, Sam. I’m too old to start over. I don’t think there’s very much left for me.”

“Mom!”

“How’s Mac?”

“She’s fine, now that she’s with me.”

“Good,” said Jane again. “Take good care of her, will you?”

“I promise,” said Sam. “I’ll… make sure she’ll be loved.”

Jane nodded. “Your sister Brooke’s in Canada,” she said.

“What?”

“Brooke… followed Mac’s example. She’s left that horrible husband of hers, and is living in Toronto now. She’s happy.”

“That’s good.”

“So that means everything is all right.”

“But, Mom…”

Jane held up her hand. “I won’t hear of it, Sam. I have three daughters and they’re all fine. I’ve… done my duty as a mother.”

“And now you can rest easily?” Sam said sarcastically, but with a hint of fear.

“Perhaps,” said Jane.

“Mom, please…”

“Let it rest, Sam. Take care of Mac and make sure Jennifer gets a good home.”

Sam sighed. “I will.”

Jane nodded and turned to go inside.

“Bye, Mom,” said Sam.

Jane paused. “Goodbye, Sam,” she said, giving her daughter a brief hug before she disappeared into the house, stepping past Mike to get inside.

A few moments later, Mac appeared again, carrying a sleeping Jennifer in one arm, a cloth bag of what looked like baby things hanging from the other. “Got everything,” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” said Sam. “Yeah, I guess.”

They put Jennifer’s things in the trunk and, with some difficulty, managed to install the baby on the back seat. Sam put the keys into the ignition, hesitated for a moment and looked back at the house. Mac followed her gaze.

“I can’t keep wondering what happened,” Sam said. “What made everything change?”

“Things have never changed,” said Mac.

“You were four when I left, and everything was still fine then.”

“Really? Can’t remember. Can we go now?”

“Sure,” said Sam.

Sam turned on the engine and a few moments later, the car pulled away.

“She barely woke up,” Mac murmured, glancing back at the baby. “Jennifer’s always been a sound sleeper. I sure hope she is tonight… because I want you so much it makes me feel like crying.” She paused, took a deep breath. “I love you, Sam. You’re the best sister in the world. The best lover, too.”

Reaching for the teen’s hand, Sam gave it a squeeze. “I love you too, Mac. “We’re together now, all three of us. Everything will be fine.”

Sam and Mac and Jennifer. They would make a strange family, Sam knew, and she and Mac would be very unusual parents. But at least they would be loving parents.

And there are worse things.

The End

Another Night Wasted, Chapter 1

  • Posted on November 11, 2017 at 7:10 am

By Jane Doe

{ This story was originally posted at the now-defunct Sisters in Love }

Jen
Another night wasted, time ticking by while I’m lost in my own world. Hiding behind my locked door, sleepless nights spent wandering my room, changing my clothes, trying to find something – anything – that feels right. Sitting outside my window, drinking beers pilfered from the fridge downstairs in the hopes that the alcohol might help me sleep. It never works, in case you were wondering.

It all started after a night like this. I don’t know what was keeping me up then. She came in to wake me up that morning, giving me a reproachful look when she saw me standing in the middle of the room, lost in thought, wearing my favorite baseball shirt and black boxer-briefs for girls and not much else.

She just raised her eyebrows ever so slightly, then pointed at the window. My eyes followed her finger, processing for the first time how bright it was outside.

“It’s time to get up. Or at least get dressed and ready for school.” Her soft voice a bit concerned, knowing that once again I hadn’t slept.

I just stared at the window dumbly for a moment and then leapt into action, scrounging clean clothes from the piles on the floor. Satisfied, she turned and left the room, closing the door behind her.

This is how most of our conversations went. Short sound bites punctuated by gestures or facial expressions. Rarely did more than two or three sentences pass between us before the encounter ended. Never too many words, often too few. Not that I recognized it then.

That morning I pulled on some jeans and a thermal weave top to combat the cold outside, then a t-shirt over that before scrambling to get socks on and my boots laced before heading downstairs to grab a mug of coffee.

We trudged out to her little rusty piece of crap she called a car through the slush and snow and she cranked up the heater as soon as she turned the engine over. I fussed with the shoulder strap of my seat belt as we drove in silence.

Then the world was spinning. I was slammed forward and against my door, a shocking pain running up through my left arm as I flung it out, seeking something to brace against. I was dazed by the crack my head had sustained against the window as the spinning came to an abrupt halt. My right hand fumbled with that damn seat belt as my left was cradled instinctively to my chest. I finally stumbled out of the car.

Suddenly I remembered my sister in the car and I scrambled back through the open passenger side door, not prepared for the sight that greeted me. She was slumped onto the steering wheel, one hand still hanging onto it, the other hanging limply down. Blood was streaming down the side of her face, leaving a deep ruby stain on her fair skin and in her otherwise strawberry blonde hair.

I think I screamed. I gathered her to me, forgetting everything I knew of emergency medicine. I honestly thought she was dying. With her lying limp in my arms, my mind just couldn’t process what I may have already lost. For the first time, I loved her. Truly and completely. I know I was crying and stroking her face and I think I was mumbling as I kissed her forehead and cheeks and lips and chin, oblivious to the coppery taste of blood on my lips. As I kissed her I felt her briefly stir, lips parting under mine as she let out a soft, pained groan. My mouth opened with hers, taking the innocent kiss of sorrow and love a step farther, and I let out my own moan as her breath passed into me.

In that one moment I felt more emotion pass through me than I do in an eventful month. To feel her body stir, to taste her breath, to know she was alive. She wasn’t leaving me. There was still time to say things that had never been said. There was a brand new closeness to my sister in that kiss, on so many levels. And after the kiss broke, there was… the desire for more. The desire for her.

Turned out I had a minor concussion and a broken wrist. Her concussion was more severe, and she needed a couple of stitches to close the cut on her forehead. But the change in me was profound. That desire is still in me, and every time I look at her or talk to her it grows. I think I see her more clearly now.

And after these weeks, all those unsaid things have remained that way. I can’t find words for any of them. I want that closeness back, more than I’ve ever wanted anything, more than I want Mom to be alive again. But I have no idea how to find it.

*****

Lana
I’m mixing meatloaf for dinner and Jen is watching me, fidgeting at the island in the kitchen. She’s been watching me a lot lately. I know she hates it when I worry about her, but I can’t help it, she’s my little sister.

I’ve been taking care of her for most of our lives, since Mom died. I don’t think she remembers much about Mom at all, and I envy her a bit for that. Dad has done what he could for us, and we all look after one another in our own ways. With him gone most of the day, we’ve really been the only constants in one another’s lives. A lot of people would end up closer because of a situation like this, but I think we all like our privacy a bit too much.

At least Dad and I do. I’m a lot like him, in looks and temperament. Strawberry blonde, blue eyed, with a quiet nature. I do my best to do what’s expected of me, including look after Jen. Sometimes I wonder if she needs more than I’m giving her.

I look up from my mixture of cold meat and eggs and oatmeal to return her gaze for a moment before she looks away, embarrassed at being caught. Every once in a while it strikes me how much she looks like Mom. Blonde hair as fine as silk and soft, light brown eyes.  Everything about her from the curve of her jaw and her pointed chin to the shape of her slightly pursed lips and her gently upturned nose. But most of all her faraway, contemplative stare. It reminds me of the stories Mom would tell, how much she liked to talk, and it hurts sometimes. I wonder what she’s thinking about when she looks like that.

God, I miss Mom sometimes. I adored the sound of her voice and I loved seeing her smile. Her whole face lit up when she smiled. Suddenly I really want to see Jen smile. I’m lost in my own thoughts when she pipes up.

*****

Jen
When I watch my big sister my thoughts tend to wander. Every little move she makes and every expression makes me think of something different, but it all comes back to the same thing. Even watching her make dinner becomes strangely fascinating, stray locks of hair falling into her face once in a while and the delicate way she uses her wrist to push them back in place. The way her eyes sparkle in even the most common light, a soft, intense blue like the summer sky. The light purse of her lips when she’s thinking, or just focused on the task at hand.

And her lips always take me back to that morning. The first and only time I’ve ever kissed them. How I lose myself whenever I think about that kiss and how I wonder what her lips would taste like without blood on them… or how just about any other part of her body would taste or feel, depending on where my eyes wander next.

Then I realize she’s looking right back at me. Guilt knots my stomach and I look away, a burning rising to my cheeks. She has this way of looking at me as though she knows what I’m thinking and it always made me a bit self conscious, but now it’s almost terrifying.  She can live a long, happy life without knowing what a pervert her little sister is. I need something… anything to get my mind off this desire I feel for her. So I open my mouth and the first thing that pops to mind comes out…

*****

Lana
“Lana, are you going out tonight?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a date. Dinner should be ready at 6:30 for you and Dad, though.” I try for a smile as my thoughts slip to Craig, my boyfriend. Tall, broad, handsome and athletic, just my type — physically, at least.

Lately he’s been a bit pushy on the sex issue, though. Whatever happened to waiting until the feeling is right? I mean, I want to do it… eventually, with the right guy and at the right time. But how am I supposed to know if he’s the right guy after only two months? He just keeps pressuring me, though.

I finished the meatloaf without another word, lost in my own thoughts. After washing my hands I headed upstairs to get showered and dressed for my date. I laid out my clothes beforehand so I began fixing my makeup and hair. Once I was done I took a moment to check myself out. I love my hair, it’s almost down to my lower back and calling it strawberry blonde just doesn’t seem to do it service. All the hues of a sunset, my dad said once. Maybe sunset blonde would be a better term. I think my body’s turning out pretty well too… slim where I should be and curved where it matters. And my eyes, sky blue with just hints of green on the inside rim.

When I was satisfied with my outfit and look, I headed back downstairs to finish up dinner. And back to Jen’s watchful gaze.

*****

Jen
Craig again. That asshole. I think everyone knows he’s an asshole except Lana and Dad. And Dad would figure it out if he ever met the guy for more than five minutes. He’s one of those guys that looks great on paper or in a picture, or really if you only just met him, but as time goes on you get to see how fucking shallow the bastard is. I hope to God she hasn’t let him get in her pants.

My stomach twists again as the image flickers through my mind and the burning sickness of jealousy takes hold. I can hear the shower start upstairs and I bury my face in my hands.

By the time she comes down again, dressed and ready for her date, I’ve managed to pull myself back into a semblance of normality, and everything else clears out of my mind as she comes into the room. Hair back in a calculatedly messy bun, a tauntingly tight little spaghetti string tank top, pristine white, fashionably worn in jeans that make it a feat of willpower to tear my eyes away from her thighs and a long, clingy knit grey coat to finish the outfit off.

Pants are a good sign… especially pants as slim as those. No easy access there. Though they would be so much fun to peel off. For a second I imagine Lana laying back on my bed, letting me slide those pants down her legs…

It’s hard to believe that Lana never notices the desire I feel for her, the need that seems like it must be written on my face… but she just smiles at me and I melt, grinning back, watching her as she finishes dinner. Until Craig’s intrusion it’s just us, and that’s how I like it. Secretly I think she likes it too, or at least doesn’t mind, judging by how much happier she seemed by the time he showed up.

*****

Lana
It might sound kind of strange, but I kind of enjoyed the feeling of Jen’s eyes on me. It’s nice to have someone who knows how much effort I put in to looking good really appreciating it. I don’t think her eyes left me once… and by the time Craig was knocking on the door I was smiling broadly. I don’t know how she manages it, but there are times Jen can make me smile like nobody else in the world.
With one last smile and a wave I headed out on my date.

*****

Jen
Dad went to bed a while ago. I’m still up, lying in bed, TV on more as background than something to really watch. In the darkness of my room, alone, just my thoughts to keep me company. I wonder what she’s doing. I don’t know why she bothers with Craig, he’s an ass. One of those cocky bastards that think they can score with any girl they please. My skin is crawling at the mere thought of him touching her.

Sometimes I want her so badly it hurts. Just to lay with her, or hold her close. To feel her body next to mine and breathe in her scent, to bury my face against the back of her neck, hide in her hair. I think I’m going totally fucking crazy…

Her room is empty and dark. I get up and go to the window, looking out into the night and decide what the fuck, I wanna get a buzz… I’ll just try and stay under the eaves to avoid the rain. Grabbing my stash from my bedside stand, I open the window and climb out, rain making me shiver as it hits my skin in icy cold droplets.

I’m smoking off a half joint I rolled earlier in the week, letting the acrid smoke linger in my lungs and letting it wrap around my brain, taking the edge off my other cravings for a moment at least. Leaning back against the siding of the house I wonder what she’d be like stoned… maybe giggly and happy, maybe overly philosophical.

It’s almost like a deep ache in my chest as I think back to kissing her, just that once, after the accident. Likely all I’ll ever have.

I slip back inside and, without thinking about it too much, leave my room and go to hers. The door slides open silently and a feeling of elation washes over me, knowing I have access to this, her private sanctum. What have these walls seen? What could they tell me that I don’t already know? And everything here is hers. Even the air smells of her.

Her bed is soft and warm, neatly made as I lay down on top of the covers, burying my face in her pillow, drinking in her scent. I wonder what she’s done in this bed… how often she touches herself, or if she even does that. My mind wanders over the possibility, imaging her lying where I am now… maybe in her pajamas, maybe just in a t-shirt and underwear, maybe wearing nothing at all. I imagine the way her hand would move, or her back arch, the sounds and expressions she would make…

I wake with a jerk, fog of sleep and smoke still thick around my brain. I was having such a nice dream… a dream about…

“Jen?”

Lana. Her voice is soft in my ear… my heart races and my eyes snap open, maybe it wasn’t just a — then I realize I’m holding the phone to my ear. There is no soft, warm body beside me in bed, no warm breath on my neck.

*****

Lana
The only thing I could do I did, that being pulling out my cell phone and dialing the number for home. I held my breath as I waited half a ring, the pickup cutting it short… silence for a moment…

“Jen?” a hopeful note in my voice, ever so softly. I let out the breath I didn’t realize I was holding in a soft, relieved sigh as I heard my little sister’s voice on the other end, sounding rather groggy and disoriented. Oh God, she had been sleeping… she almost never sleeps.

“Lana… wha — what time is it… and where are you?”

“It’s about one. I’m so sorry to wake you Jennie, but I’m out at Brentwood and my ride left me hanging… Think you could come out and pick me up?” That asshole… I can’t believe he left me out here. Making me call home for a fucking ride.

“Yeah, yeah no problem, Lana… Brentwood? By the Sears entrance? I can be there in twenty.”

“Thank you, Jen. I’ll see you.” I waited for the line to click off, then folded my phone and slipped it back in my purse. I know very well that it takes more than half an hour to get here from our house, but that’s just how great my sister is. I wake her up, and she almost sounds eager to come and get me.

God damn, I hate that bastard Craig.

*****

Jen
I was down and out in two minutes, max, a fresh cigarette between my lips to try and drive the fog from my mind. She’s only that calm, that quiet, when something has gotten to her. What could’ve happened?

What did she do? Or maybe what didn’t she do? The questions whirl through my addled brain as I drive.

That fucker had better not have hurt her.

Thoughts of violence leave me as I pull around the mall, spotting my big sister standing alone in a pool of light. She’s a tiny figure that quickly grows as I approach.  Under one of the lamps out front, her face is shrouded in shadows, and as she looks up at the car her face is thrown into high relief, white light from above and deep shadows exaggerating her features. To me she looks like an angel, skin luminous and hair a shining gold, her red tones washed out and transformed into subtle hints.

I slow the car as I pull up, staring at her in awe as she walks over. The dome light snaps me out of it when she opens the door, gifting me with a thankful smile.

“Jen, you’re the best. I adore you. Thanks so much.” She sounds a bit relieved as she climbs in and even though I know she doesn’t… well… mean what she says like I want her to, I’m still blushing.

“No problem, just remember this next time I miss curfew by a half hour.” Still blushing, I’m smiling back at her like a goon, and as I pull out my heart leaps into my throat. I reach over to her, laying my right hand on her left and giving hers a gentle squeeze.

For the rest of the ride home I’m on cloud nine, holding her hand. Soft and warm and delicate. All I can think of as I drive is how much I love her.

*****

Lana
I climbed into the car and began staring out the window, all the things Craig said still ringing in my ears, anger on a slow burn in my brain and my stomach.

I look down in surprise as her hand slides onto mine, giving me a comforting squeeze and bringing a faint smile to my face. Her hand is warm and a bit sweaty, as though she was nervous about something.  Squeezing back is a balm on my anger.  What does it matter if the first boy I date is a total ass? I still have my friends and most importantly, I still have Jen. Sometimes I get lost in taking care of her, but moments like this remind me that she’s also here to take care of me.

She drives us home, I watch the world pass by out the window, holding her hand securely. I’m just left to think it all over. But mostly I let my mind wander, I’ve spent enough time and effort liking Craig to bother too much more with hating him. Just being there with Jen makes me smile and relax, until it hits me.
What would happen if she wasn’t there? What would I do if I lost her? And maybe, just maybe, that’s why she’s been so weird since the accident. I mean, I don’t remember any of it, I barely remember getting up that morning, but I know I was out for a good amount of time. And seeing the pictures of what the car looked like… maybe she thought I was dead. Maybe she thought she had lost me.

It’s almost like getting punched in the chest to even think of it that way. I think she’s going to be getting a lot more of my time in the future. After all, if you can’t rely on your sister, who can you rely on?

*****

Jen
When we get back home I have to let go of Lana’s hand to get out of the car, and I do it reluctantly. But heading around the car, she’s still waiting for me at the base of the walk, and when I join her she slides her hand into mine once again and we walk up and into the house together. Side by side, hand in hand we walk. I don’t think I’ve ever been happier.

When we get up to her room she pauses, looking at me and raising an eyebrow. I left her door open… heat rises through my face as I feel the blush spread.

“Umm… yeah. I kinda fell asleep in your room… I’m sorry, I know…”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about it… really. Tonight I feel like I could maybe use some company.”

Her interruption startles me, but not nearly as much as the offer. As hard as I try to be calm about it I can’t help but stare at her open-mouthed for a moment.

“Sure… I mean, if you want. If you need it…”

“I don’t need anything but my little sister. I really would be lost without your little hooligan butt to take care of.”

She’s smiling and I can’t help but grin back. On impulse I pull her into a tight hug and hold her there. Her arms slide around me in return and we spend a long moment there in the dark together. I don’t think I’ve ever felt closer to her. At the same time I’m far too conscious of the feel of her body pressed against mine, the softness of her breasts, the slimness of her waist swelling down into her hips, and my god, the smell of her.

I bury my face in the side of her neck, breathing in deeply, her perfume making me feel twice as high as any drug ever has.

After a long moment she pulls away from the hug, sliding her hand into mine once again and leading me into her room. She takes a moment to close the door behind us and lets go of my hand, turning her back to me and dropping her jacket off her shoulders, hanging it off the chair by her desk. My heart is pounding as she continues to undress, pulling her shirt up and off over her head, exposing the line of her spine, the curve of her waist flaring out into her hips, the contours of her shoulder blades, the smooth skin of her shoulders and the nape of her neck, begging to be touched and kissed, to feel the caress of my lips.

Her glance back at me broke my reverie, my mouth dry and the thundering in my ears redoubling until she smiles and giggles a bit, breaking my tension at least. She tosses a shirt over at me, hitting me in the face with it, and with that the last scraps of my nervousness fade. I grab a pillow from her bed and smack her with it, and soon we’re giggling like 7-year-olds, half naked in bed. After finishing getting ready for bed we settle in, spooning comfortably, her back to my front.

They say reality can never live up to fantasy, but in this case reality far surpassed anything I could have imagined. To feel her against me, her warmth next to me, my arms around her, to have her all to myself. I held her close as she drifted off, and laid there in heaven until sleep took me as well.

Continue on to Chapter 2

Dancing on the Edge, Chapter 3

  • Posted on November 9, 2017 at 7:25 am

By Jos Mous

Mac had a friend. She had been greatly surprised when she discovered this. Up until now, she’d never had friends. She mostly had… passing acquaintances. And of all the people Mac had ever thought she might possible befriend, a girl like Fatimah wasn’t among them.

Fatimah was a demure Muslim girl with a rather traditional upbringing. She wore a kerchief and shapeless dresses that reached the ground, she prayed a lot, she always said that love wasn’t important, but that finding a husband who had the right faith was. In spite of these strange ideas, Mac could get along with Fatimah just fine as long as they avoided certain topics.

Right now, Mac really felt the need to talk to someone she trusted. The big problem was, she didn’t trust anyone. Well… she had grown to trust Sam, but that was the last person she wanted to talk to about the subject that had been bothering her. She thought she could trust Fatimah, but wasn’t completely sure. She had a feeling that the girl could turn on her at any moment.

Then Mac realised she was being silly. People had turned on her all the time in the States. But this weren’t the States. And Fatimah certainly wasn’t just another pussy that Mac wanted to use for a night or two.

Constantly reminding herself of that fact, Mac walked up to Fatimah one day after school and asked the girl if she would join her on a walk across the grounds so that they could talk in relative peace and quiet. When they walked there was peace. And there was quiet. There wasn’t much talking, though.

“Is something bothering you?” asked Fatimah, when she felt the silence had gone on long enough.

“Yeah,” said Mac.

“And you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t really want to, but I feel I really need to.”

“I see.”

“You see, the thing is… I have this friend, right? And we’re close. I mean, we’re, really, really close. We’re like… we’re like brother and sister, y’know?”

“Yes,” said Fatimah in a “Go on, I’m listening” tone of voice.

“Well… the thing is, I… he… he sort of accidentally… saw me naked.”

“I see,” said Fatimah, her expression carefully blank.

“Hey, it’s not like I flashed my tits at h… at him, or something. He was just… at my house one day, and I decided to take a shower, and he accidentally saw me walking naked across the hallway.”

“I suppose that can happen.”

“Well, but then he… he sort of hinted that… I mean, he didn’t exactly hint, but from what he said I could sort of… deduce that he might find me attractive.”

“This doesn’t surprise me. I can plainly see you are very attractive.”

“Come on, don’t start dissing my clothes and I won’t say anything about the curtains you’re wearing.”

A smile flashed over Fatimah’s face. “Oh, very well then. But I’m afraid I don’t see the problem.”

“Like I said, we’re like brother and sister and the thought that he could find me attractive is… well, it’s disgusting!”

“So… you’re disgusted by your best friend.”

“No! That’s the whole problem! I should be disgusted, but I’m not!”

“Perhaps you love him.”

“What? No. No way. I so do not love him. Not like that, anyway.”

“It’s not uncommon for friends to fall in love.”

“No, but…” Mac sighed. “Never mind.”

“Very well then,” said Fatimah. “I should probably go. Lots of homework.”

“Best of luck.”

“Thanks. Good luck with your friend.”

“Yeah,” said Mac.

Best friends could fall in love. There was nothing wrong about that. But siblings, no, they couldn’t fall in love with each other. That was sick, perverted, disgusting.

And besides, Mac didn’t love Sam. Sure, she trusted her and cared for her and… well… loved her in a non-romantic sense. And, okay, from a objective point of view, Sam was quite attractive.

But Mac wasn’t attracted to her, because that kind of attraction was just sickening.

And two sisters making love to each other, that was… well, that would be…

Disgusting! Totally, utterly disgusting!

And there was no possible way that Mac could even be remotely attracted to Sam.

Now, if she just kept telling herself that long enough…

*****

It was early in the evening and Sam and Mac were lounging on the couch, sort of watching TV. There wasn’t anything interesting on, so they both stared at the screen without watching it.

During a commercial break, Mac figured she really needed to talk to Sam before her worrying lack of disgust turned into something of an obsession. The show they were staring at was already over, however, when Mac had finally found the courage to speak.

“Sam…?”

“Yeah?”

“You know, the other day, during the dishes when you were… acting a little freaky?”

“I remember.”

“Well, why were you acting freaky?” Mac asked.

“It was like I told you, I needed to work something out.”

“Yeah, but what, exactly?”

“Just… where the two of us stand.”

“And did it have anything to do with… seeing me in the nude?”

Sam was silent for a moment. Then she said, “Of course not.”

“I don’t believe you,” said Mac.

“Mac, you’re a very attractive young woman, I won’t deny that. But we’re sisters.”

“And sisters can’t be attracted to each other, right?”

“I don’t like that tone of voice.”

“Well, too bad. I’m using it anyway. Face it, you saw me naked and it turned you on.”

“Mac!” Sam said indignantly.

“Well, didn’t it?” Mac demanded.

Mac looked at Sam and saw her eyes. There was anger there, like she had expected, but also… something else. “I wasn’t “turned on” when I saw you like that,” Sam said. “But I’d be lying if I said I never think about that moment.”

“And when you think about it, do you want that moment to last longer?”

“Mac, I refuse to talk about this any longer. We’re sisters, it’s wrong.”

“And with those words you admit that you’re attracted to me!”

“Mac, we are sisters,” said Sam calmly. “If I was physically attracted to you, which I’m not, I certainly wouldn’t act on it.”

“Because it’s wrong,” Mac finished, not without a hint of sarcasm.

“Yes.”

“No, it’s not,” said Mac, surprising even herself. “I know about wrong. I’ve seen wrong. I’ve seen it so much it almost killed me three times. And if you love me, that’s not wrong. I think that no matter how you look at it, love can never be wrong.”

“It is,” said Sam.

“Show me where it’s written, then!” Mac shouted. “Show me the insane deity that carved the words ‘Thou Shalt Not Love’ on a stone tablet!”

“I won’t hear any more of this!” Sam snapped. “I do not love you in that way — and I — I’m certainly not attracted to you in that way!”

“Well, I do love you, so there!”

And just like that, Sam fell silent, staring at her younger sister. Finally she spoke. “I… I beg your pardon?”

“I said I…” Mac trailed off. “I love you.”

That’s what she said. It was one of those damn Freudian slips. It hadn’t been meant to be said, it hadn’t even been meant to be thought. But it was there. And the really aggravating thing about Freudian slips is that they often reveal the truth. And it was logical too, in a sense. Mac’s childhood had left her as a fucked-up headcase. Sam was the first person to genuinely care for her, unconditionally.

How could you not fall for a person like that?

Fuck! thought Mac when she realised where her thoughts were leading. I want Sam… I want my sister, for fuck’s sake, to love me. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!

“Mac…?” Sam said carefully.

“What?” Mac asked gruffly, resurfacing from her thoughts.

“What you just said…”

“I know what I just said.”

“Was that… Did you really mean that?”

Mac sighed. “Yeah. I meant it. I know I want you, and it’s possible that I love you.”

“Possible?”

“Well, it’s not like I have a lot of experience with love, now is it?” Mac snapped.

“Mac… I want you to think about this carefully. Do you… want me to… to kiss you?”

Mac peered at Sam suspiciously. “What happened to all the ‘it’s wrong’ stuff?”

“That was before you said you loved me.”

“Wait, are you saying…?”

Sam looked down at her hands, folded in her lap. “Ever since I saw you… No, it started even before that. I can’t stop thinking about you. I just can’t. I try and I try and I try and then the moment I let my thoughts slip out of my control I see you. Not naked, not in a sexual situation — just you, Mackenzie McQueen, saying that you love me.”

“And what do you say then?”

“I love you, too.”

Continue on to Chapter 4