Incest
2008-04-03

Topic: A fresh start for brother and sister. To say that my sister and I were close would be like suggesting a friendship between Hitler and Jerry Seinfeld. Well, maybe not quite that drastic, but we didn't get along. For starters, our social rankings at the high school we attended absolutely forbade us to even make eye contact. I doubt that more than a handful of students even knew we were related. Our home life wasn't violent or anything, we just didn't have much in common. We rarely fought, and when we did it was over in a matter of minutes. We didn't get along, plain and simple. She disliked me because I was the oldest, had my own car, no curfew, and never got in trouble (I never really asked for trouble, though). She thought I was spoiled. I didn't think it was right that she was treated like royalty just because she was the baby. Our dad must have had a disease that prevented him from saying no to her. I thought she was spoiled. I was a senior and one of the liberal-minded, artsy, hipster-types (those are her words). The way she would describe me, she makes it sound like I walk around in a baret with a pencil moustache reciting poetry. .

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. way off. I guess that's what you get when you would rather spend Friday night at a tiny club watching tiny bands play wierd music than going to the football game. Forgive me if I sound full of myself, but I had my share of offers from girls you wouldn't expect to like a guy like me. I wasn't bad looking. At the time, I was tall and thin. . . almost lanky, with dark blonde hair with a touch of red, blue eyes, and always fit right in at those tiny clubs with the college kids. . . no surprise I didn't fit in at high school.
She was a freshman, popular, extremely pretty (it runs in the family), captain or president of every team or club she was a part of, and every teacher's favorite. Although we never spent a weekend night together, I knew she could take her activities straight from the party to the church. She was a very good girl.

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    That's why it came as a shock when I overheard a new kid talking about her during my Honors Chemistry class. He was going on and on about things he claimed she had done to him at a party over the weekend. I knew he was full of it for two reasons: 1. she has never gone past kissing (I have my sources) and would never look twice at a guy like him. 2. She was out of town with my parents all weekend.
    Class ended, and before we could get three steps into the hallway he was on the ground, his back against the locker with blood gushing from his nose, covering the bottom half of his face, and staining his white shirt red. My sister and I may not get along, but that doesn't mean I'll sit and listen to a meat head jackass smear her name. After a lenghty discussion with the principal, I was sent home from school early and suspended for the rest of the week. So there I was, sunken into the couch in front of the TV, waiting for my parents to come home and deliver the rest of my punishment.
    You would have thought a cannon went off the way I jumped when the doorbell rang. Turning to look over the back of the sofa, I saw the silhouette of my sister through the frosted glass window in the front door. She didn't have cheerleading practice that day, and she was going to ride home with me after school. She had to walk home. I jumped from the couch and raced to unlock the door for her, afriad I was about to face one of her looks she gives you when she's upset.

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. . the kind that could wilt a flower in seconds. I let the door swing open and stepped aside to give her room to come in. Silently, she stepped through the doorway and stopped right in front of me. You could have heard a needle drop on a pillow upstairs. I didn't know whether or not she had heard why I couldn't give her a ride. I didn't know if she was upset. Sometimes she is so impossible to read. We just stood there, me with my back to the door like someone was holding a knife to my chin, and her less than a step in front of me, her shoulder inches from my chest. I felt a breeze sneak in from outside, carrying her scent straight up to me. That's one thing I've always loved about her. . . she always smells so sweet.

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    Without making a sound, she turned on the spot so she was facing me. The top of her head was level with my lips, her dark red hair pushed back behind her ears, one stray curl hanging down over one of her bright green eyes. I opened my mouth to speak, but got cut off half way through the word "sorry".
    "You don't have to apologize. " She interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper. "I heard about. . . that you were sent home early. " She seemed almost sad.
    "I'm sorry you had to walk home from school. " I finished my apology anyway, wondering if she knew why I was sent home. "They said I wasn't allowed on campus until my susp. . .

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  " She cut me off again.
    "Why did you do that?" She asked, finally looking up from my chest. She had been examining the dot of the i in the middle of a word printed on my shirt or something. As we made eye contact, I couldn't help but notice there was a look there that I'd never seen. I had no idea what to make of it.
    "Why did I say I'm sorry? Because I am. I knew you didn't have practice. . . " Once again, she stopped me.
    "You know what I'm talking about. Why did you stick up for me like that? We've never been friends. I've never done anything nice for you. You don't even like me!" Her voice cracked like she was about to cry, but she fought it off well. I was stunned.

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    Did she really think it was nice that I had probably broken a kid's nose? Did she really think I didn't like her?! The look in her eyes suggested that she felt worse than I did.
    "You don't really think that, do you?" I asked, and was pleased that I sounded every bit as sincere as I meant to. "You're my sister! I love you, and not just because I have to. " The last two words came out with a forced laugh.
    "Well. . . thanks. " Her voice went soft again. "I really mean it. . . and I love you too. " With that, she stepped forward, placed a hand on each of my shoulders, made herself as tall as she could and kissed me lightly on the cheek. She dropped down from her tippy toes and let her hands slip down my chest lightly and smiled the sweetest smile I've ever seen, then walked away leaving the spot on my cheek burning.

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   I stood there motionless for what seemed like minutes, trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. Seconds later in reality, I swung the door closed and rushed to the foot of the stairs, trying to catch her. I wanted to hear what she had heard. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up. She was near the top, and from where I was, I had a view that any guy in the school would pay good money to have. With each step she took, the back of her maroon skirt (part of the uniform for our school) bounced up just enough for me to catch a glimpse of her baby blue panties. I had a thing for a cute girl's butt in a pair of nice fitting panties, and had just realized that my sister was no exception. I'd always known that she was a gorgeous girl. . . petite, soft pale skin, long slender legs, her curves were subtle where they should be subtle, and obvious where they should be obvious. I would often find myself slipping into a bit of a trance while staring at her shoulders in a tank top or her hips in a pair of low-rise jeans, but this was the first time I had ever felt my pulse quicken from looking at her.
    She reached the landing and turned down the hallway toward her room. As I rushed up the stairs, I fought with images of her panties that kept flashing through my mind. I could still see vividly the soft curve of the tiny portion of her ass that wasn't covored by them, the way her skirt moved and then what I could see under it.

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I tried to force these images out of my mind, and as I reached the top of the stairs I had forgotten why I was following her in the first place. I hurried down the hall anyway and found the door to her bedroom half way open. I took a tiny step past her doorway and tapped on the door. "Busy?" She was sitting on the corner of her bed flipping through a text book. I must have startled her because she jumped when i spoke. She sat up straight and looked over her shoulder at me. That same sweet smile from before crept onto her lips as she clapped the textbook closed. "Not a bit!" She suddenly sounded happy, almost excited. Tossing the book onto her desk, she scooted back on her bed enough to pull her legs up and spin herself around, crossing her legs and folding her hands in the lap of her skirt to push it down between them, but not before my eyes instinctively darted down and caught another glimpse of the baby blue material between her legs. They darted back up to meet her eyes quickly. Either she hadn't noticed, or did and was afraid to say anything. Or maybe she just didn't mind? I tried to force the image out of my head again as I stepped into her room. "Sit!" she patted the bed in front of her, still smiling. I obeyed, kicking my shoes off before scooting to the place she had saved for me. Crossing my legs, I mirrored her, my hands folded in my lap.

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"Something's different" I began. It turned into what was probably the first real conversation we had ever had. We talked about why we had always been so bitter toward each other. We couldn't find a reason. She told me how bad she felt when she heard that I had gotten myself into trouble because of her, and that's when her thoughts of me started to change.

We talked about how neigher of us really ever disliked the other. I found out that she actually looked up to me, and she found out that I secretly wished we were closer. It turned out to be a very nice little chat. During it all, we each made subtle movements with no real intentions. By the end of the talk our knees were touching. She began touching my knee when she would laugh or nudging my shoulder playfully when the conversation would get less serious. After one of these moments, her expression suddenly went from a laugh to deathly serious. She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees.
"You know I've never done anything like that, right? I mean. .

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  . the things he was saying? I've barely even kissed a guy! And that was only just when. . . " This time I cut her off.
   "I know I know I know" I interjected, laughing. "I know what you're like. . . and even if you have done things like that, I know you never would with a guy like him. "
   "Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden? You're actually kinda. . . sweet!" The giggle that came with the last word was what made me almost forget she was my sister.
   "Sweet? Me?" I replied playfully, wrinkling my nose.

    "And look who's saying it!"
   "What?! I can't decide who's sweet and who isn't?" By now I was copying her again, leaining forward with my hands cupping my chin, elbows on my knees, our noses inches apart. "And so what if I think you are. . . does that change anything?" Her words were coming out less playful now.
    "Well yeah. . . I always thought you saw me as a. . . I don't know. . . boring, grouchy, geeky, older brother.

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  " I shrugged, my eyes locked on hers. "Does it change things now that you think that? She nodded her head, a little smile creeping across her lips.
    "Let's stay like this, k? I mean, like closer. . . I like you better this way. " Her voice was getting softer as she spoke. She leaned forward just enough for me to notice.
   "You too" was all I said, almost whispering now. I let myself slip just a bit aswell, our noses almost touching.
    Before either of us could say anything else, our lips brushed. Just gently at first, barely enough to notice, but then we both moved again. My lips parted, moving over hers just as she opened hers to receive me. The kiss was so soft, and our lips fit together so perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Her hands slipped from her chin and I felt her fingers creeping across my cheeks.

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Her touch send a spark down my spine and I could feel goosebumps popping up on my arms as I let one hand move to caress her back. My fingers traced her jaw until they disappeared behind her ear and into her hair. With each little movement the kiss grew more passionate, my tongue tracing her bottom lip as i closed my lips around it. Within seconds we were kissing like we'd been longing to do this for years. Her quiet moans and my quiet sighs begian to fill the room. She tried to scoot closer, but our knees touched, blocking her. Uncrossing her legs, she slipped forward and onto my lap, my free hand guiding her up until she was straddling me, our bodies pressed together. The goosebumps disappeared immediately as she began to roll her hips, grinding ever so gently against mine. Her chest was pressed against mine, moving with her rhythm. I responded, lifting my hips as much as i could, grinding back, the bulge in my pants hidden under her skirt as it kneaded against the crotch of her panties.
As our moans and sighs grew louder and less controlled, we both knew that things had definitely changed. Neither of us were ready to stop. My fingers began working on the top button of her shirt. At the same time, I could feel her fingers tugging at the top button of my jeans. Suddenly my heart dropped as the sound of the garage door opening broke the kiss.

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I leaned back, eyes wide, my breathing rapid and harsh as I stared directly into her eyes. I was waiting for her to start rambling on about how wrong this was and that we should never thing of it again. Her eyes were just as wide as mine, and her breathing just as fast.
"I'm skipping school tomorrow to stay home with you, is that okay?" She blurted out, her words rushed as she hastily buttoned her shirt back up. I nodded quickly in disbelief as she scooted back and off of my lap. "Act natural, they won't suspect a thing" she said as she scooted off the bed. I was speechless and unable to move I was so shocked. She began to leave the room but stopped, leaning across the bed, "Oh. . . and I love you. " she said with a wicked little smile, leaving me with one last kiss on the lips.
(To be continued. . .