4-4-2 Guys and Girls at a Bar — Derrick gets backlashed in his persuit of his sister Twice

"Ugh..." I said to greet the morning. Someone had been so kind as to build the house to accept Eastern sunlight in the mornings, yet no blackout curtains were drawn. "Who's packing?"

There was a little noise littered throughout the room. Both male and female, people waking up, getting dressed. There was also a warm body tucked into me, ass first, just the way I like it. Neither of us had clothes on, and the liquor had released its hold on my dick, allowing it to explore the creature's ass.

"Breakfast in a few minutes," someone called from outside. My eyes shot open, along with many others if I judged the complaints correctly, and once again I, along with everybody else, wished I could go back in time and shoot Newton in the head for inventing gravity. Going up was fine, but coming down was a bitch.

"Mmm... morning," the girl tucked into me said to me. I felt her crane her neck around to kiss me, and her hand reached back to pet my cock, poking at her backside. My eyes opened, and...

"Oh hey, Beck."

"Hey," my little sister said back at me, finishing our kiss before peering around the room a few times. I took a look around as well.

Sam was sprawled out on the bed by himself, no surprise there. A few of the girls were in a general pile next to the bed, with Dree and Bill here or there. One more unidentified groan told me Sara had been sleeping somewhere behind me.

We all got dressed in what we came in, and we looked a pretty ridiculous bunch heading downstairs. Me and my boys in slacks, the girls in dresses that were pressed and clean and glamorous the night before with styled hair. This morning, their hair was... something. Becky looked somewhat passable with her hair just straightened, but she still looked ridiculous in her dress and heels, mingling with the remaining crowd. Sara and her adventurous criss-crossed breasts were the worst, though.

A dozen other people had stayed the night, but I learned that they were all related to the owners of the house or else they went to school at the Garden. The residents were the mothers of the headmistress of the garden, a pair of eighty-something women who thought we all looked very humorous in our dancing shoes.

Throughout breakfast, Becky was quite flirtatious with all the boys and girls at the largish table, but her naked foot was running itself along my leg all morning. The fact that I knew she wanted me and that she wanted to save our first time for something special was making me hard as shit despite all the times I came the night before. I only hoped I could keep her attention long enough to collect.

We all got home in good time, except I had to turn around and head right to classes. I missed my early one; not good. The rest went by in a rather slow blur, and I was fucking exhausted by five in the evening when I was finally free.

I dragged myself by way of the tram to Julie's, where a stool was waiting for me.

"Wotcher, handsome," said Jess the barmaiden with a pitcher of delicious foam for me.

I gave her a casual wave of my aching hand. Computer technology into its fifth decade, and this stupid school still has us writing with pencils.

"Down and out today?" she asked in her sultry bartender voice.

"He's just pissed he hasn't gotten any from a 'special someone'," Bill's voice said from next to me. I hadn't noticed him before; I popped him one on the arm.

"Aww... le povre," she said sympathetically. "I'll go to bed with you any time you ask, you know."

I groaned rather than answer. Jess was a nice piece of tail, but now she just seemed like every other dolphin in the sea, especially after having fucked her already. She turned off to handle (and flirt with) someone else further down the bar.

"Don't worry, stud, you'll get her."

This new voice had me puzzled. I craned my head to look down the bar past Bill, and... "Sally? What're you doing here?"

"Drinking," she said with some incredulity. "What'd you expect, dancing on the bar?" That voice somehow reached all the way to my testicles. Sally had been good in bed from what I had seen. Too good. It wasn't natural.

Dree was there, moping as usual. Sam, uncharacteristically, wasn't. He arrived a half hour later, and he seemed grumbly at the thought of sharing a bar with his sister, but soon he was drinking his problems away with the rest of us. Salamandy was loving it, chatting away a storm despite no one listening to her. She was on her phone half the time as well; he heard about half the news of the entire town relayed through her in the time it took us to get through three pitchers. It was like she had no code at all.

Then, to the surprise of some and the causal interest of others, an adorable blond with a stereotypically perky outfit pulled up a seat next to me. "Bartender!" she hollered, "Is there any beer in this place?" She then turned to me. I was already staring at her in disbelief.

"Hi!" she said warmly. "Remember me?"

I gave her a blank stare. What's with all these woman at our bar?

"Cindy? From last night?"

"I remember," I said somewhat modestly, though I couldn't really tell her from her twin yet. "What're you..."

"I heard a bunch of people were gonna be here," she said whimsically. She distracted herself with her new beer and peanuts. "How's it goin'?"

"Sara? Is that you?" came a rather loud noise from my right. Salamandy had surely already noticed her sister's appearance, and the annoying effect was lost on none of us. "Where's Cindy? I thought you two were attached at the wrist!"

Despite her rudeness, she was right. I can't remember having ever seen the twins apart before.

"Bite me," Cindy snarled at her sister eloquently. "So, come here often?" she turned back to me.

"More and more, it seems," I said, still in a daze. Why was she talking to me?

In the next hour it took us to polish off two more pitchers, Salamandy and Cindy continued to dominate the conversation that took place, but Cindy only seemed interested in talking to me. She wasn't just talking, either. Her dangling feet bumped into mine every so often, and she would accentuate what jokes she told by leaning up against me momentarily and touching me on the hand whenever I said anything to her out of sheer courtesy.

She was making me feel in a way I hadn't felt in years. Whenever she touched me, excitement shot through my veins. I was actually getting hard from her flirting. That hasn't happened to me since I was a freshman in high school, shortly before "The Beast" took my soul. The more she talked to me, and the more she flirted with me, the more she started to grow on me. Compared to her sister Salamandy, she had exceptionally golden hair, automatically making her seem the more adventurous and exciting of the two, but her eyes spoke of a maturity that belied her age. She was nowhere as whimsical or as silly as Sally: the things she had to say spoke more of sophistication and dignity, and she wasn't insulting when she spoke. As I understood it, the two sisters were almost the same age, separated by only a few months. Yet where Salamandy's future seemed to be in waiting tables, I could see Cindy running board meetings in a smart suit. She was classy.

Evening was getting mature, time for the older crowd to start coming in for dinner, which meant was time for us younger kids to head out and find some way to kill the rest of the Saturday. After we paid our compliments to the ever-attentive Jess, we turned and headed out.

Cindy caught up with me at the door before I could group up with my boys for protection, and she clutched onto my arm. "Wanna go for a walk? she asked sweetly.

I looked left and right, but everyone else was too involved in their non-involvement to notice. I was trapped.

She was already dragging me down the street off towards nowhere before I could answer. "So... what're you doing in college?"

"I donno, trying to figure out what I want to do with my life," I answered lamely.

"That's cool. I don't know either, so I think it's a good idea to just take it easy for a few years. As long as you got a home to go home to and money from your parents to keep going to school, right?"

"Uhh... yeah." I wasn't used to this. I hadn't done any dating in forever; not that I felt like I was on a date, but I'm not used to sharing with women. Had I a chunk of change in my pocket to do something with, I would've just lubed her up with a few smooth words on our way to a hotel room. Had she not been my boy's sister, that is. I have rules when we're not all in the same room.

"Sara wants to be an electrical engineer, but I can't make heads or tails of the designs she shows me. I want to be a fashion designer, so I go talk to the people in town that have to do with fashion, you know. Mistress Melody, Granny Nikki, Leslie; that crowd."

None of whom I'd ever met, but all three of them were names on Main Street in Downtown Rotterdale; they ran a dresses-by-order business, an art studio, and a lingerie shop respectively.

"I spend some time modeling for money, but that usually means I see more of raven-beak than I'd like to, you know what I mean..."

"Raven-beak" was the household nickname for the two black-haired girls in Sam's house, including Salamandy, whom no one really seemed to like. It was a fitting nickname, for as far as I knew, the rest of their brothers and sisters were all blond.

"But it's some decent money, and you meet a few people now and then. You know?"

"Hang on," I said, trying not to be rude, "I don't mean to be rude, but... is there a particular reason you're singling me out?"

She stopped dead in her tracks to shoot me a look of horror. I wasn't buying it, so I raised my eyebrows and waiting.

"Fine," she huffed. "I need a date to the dance, and Sara's already taking someone." She had dropped my arm and was standing stock-still in her sunflower sandals with her arms crossed, looking pointedly in a different direction.

"...We just had the dance," I said obviously. "Or do you mean the high school dance? That's like a month away."

"That's the Senior Ball; I mean the Garden Promenade," she said impatiently. "So, will you go with me?"

"Why me? I thought it was, begging your pardon, Sara that had an eye on me, and you were with Bill and Drivved."

"I donno; she said she was going with someone, and I have to go, and you seem like a nice guy, so..."

"You have to go? You sound like you don't want to. And I thought the Garden hosted that dance from last night. And you go to Cameron anyway."

"That was just a party," she said impatiently. "The real dance is next week. It's the official yearly 'coming of age' party for former students. Anyway, if I go, I have to have a date, and like I said, I wanted to go with Sara, but she's taking someone, and I know you don't have a date, so will you go with me, or not?"

"I donno; what kind of a dance is it? Is anyone else I know gonna be there?"

"A couple people; I donno... It's like a regular school dance with food and dancing and a band. You have to wear shoes and slacks and a shirt like last night. Okay?"

I tried not to let my eyes roll. I'm used to girls tripping over themselves to get dates for a dance they absolutely had to go to, but this girl thought of it as a chore. I admit, I was intrigued.

"Why do you even want to go?"

"I owe it to my teachers," she explained patiently. "When I went to school there, they had every kind of activity to do: Games, sports, music, drawing, pottery, whatever, and you could learn at your own pace. If you ever didn't understand anything, there were oodles of teachers on standby to help you with whatever. By the time I got to high school, I already knew everything they taught. The only reason I go is to learn to socialize, apparently. Did you hear what happened with Drivved's sisters?"

"Them? Didn't they take off somewhere?"

"No; I mean, they went straight to Laurel. All three of them have doctorates, and Holly, the youngest, is hardly even eighteen. I hear all three of them got recruited to work for some space program."

"So... what does this have to do with...?"

"Did you like high school?"

"I have to think about that for a s... no, I didn't like it."

"I don't like it either. I don't even wanna go to their stupid Senior Ball; everyone's just gonna be off acting like sluts all night and ditch early to go get a room upstairs."

We had gone back to walking, and she stopped us in a big park full with a children's section full of goodies to ride on. She sat us down on a bench nearby a flock of kids enjoying themselves.

"So it's not really my thing," she continued, "but the Promenade at the Garden is a bit special to me. Like I said, I was just gonna go with Sara, but since she seems so busy..." I knew a woman's fury when I heard it, "I thought maybe you'd wanna go."

"Why her? Aren't you supposed to take boys to dances?"

She was losing her patience. "Girls go with girls all the time; nobody cares if you're gay or anything at the Garden."

"But... your sister?"

It was her turn to raise her eyebrows.

"Nothing, nothing..."

"So?"

"I guess..."

"Great. Come on." She pulled me to my feet and dragged me by the hand off to a huge house that had its back to the park.

"And we're going...?"

"To meet my dad. We have to clear our dates with him well in advance if we want to live."

Suddenly I found myself not wanting to meet Sam's father, not at all.

"Look," she said, turning me to face her, "you wanna fuck me, don't you?"

She had turned on the charm. Carefully mascaraed eyelashes, delicate pink lipstick, and faintly rosed cheeks made her into quite the alluring young lady. Her lips were parted and she was gazing up at me with a kind of hunger. Again, I didn't buy it. This was how I expected Salamandy to behave; Cindy and Sara seemed above this kind of nonsense. Disappointing, really

"The thought had crossed my mind," I said honestly enough, hoping it was the right thing to say, "but haven't we already..."

"That was Sara you were with last night. So? How about it?"

"Well, yeah. I wouldn't mind, I mean."

"Then act like it in front of my dad." She clutched me close again and pulled me to the back door of the house.

"Daddy, this is Derrick," she said a few minutes later.

A short man with pale blond hair greeted us. He was stocky with farm-hand muscles I had come to expect from people that grew up in the Garden; from my brief time with Salamandy and her twin sisters in the buff, both were soft on the outside, but they were equally hard with polished muscle. I could easily see him as being Sampson's father.

"Samson Campbell," he said behind a frown and an extended hand. His little girl was clutching to me as though I was the love of her life, and I could feel his protectiveness of her when he crushed my hand in his. Strong indeed.

"Derrick invited me to the dance at the Garden," Cindy lied. "May we go?"

"We'll see," he said behind a scowl. "Your sister's waiting for you upstairs. Derrick, would you mind joining me in my office?"

Oh, shit. What the fuck has she gotten me into? But as he turned his back to lead me, Cindy flash me a winning grin and winked at me; she was expecting this. She bolted upstairs to be reunited with her twin.

I followed the man through a few rooms; I took a moment to look around. This house had a reputation for having the most children under its roof next to the Garden itself, yet there wasn't a spot of mess anywhere. I heard Garden students learned to work their backs and keep their living spaces clean; this discipline surely leaked into this man's house.

The final door was through the huge kitchen, where several people I didn't recognize were amusing themselves with various concoctions. I had been half-expecting to see Sam somewhere, but to no avail. I was led through the door, and suddenly I was wishing I was back in the bar.

It stank. Burning. Chemicals. Rot. Not at all the comfortable chair I was hoping for in what was surely going to be an interview. I could see the questioning process was going to be completely painful.

"Where're you from, son?" he asked me after offering me a seat.

"Life-long Bomb," I said, citing the high school mascot.

He nodded noncommittally. "How long've you known Cindy?"

There's a question I wasn't prepared for. Then again, if I needed to study in advance, shouldn't Cindy have warned me? "We just met, actually," I said as casually as I could, but I could feel my heartbeat racing. "I'm friends with Sam; he introduced us at the dance last night."

He scoffed. Damn. "I'll have you know this dance isn't like these parties you kids are used to. The Promenade takes place at Tranquil Breeze Garden, where there are no private rooms to escape to afterwords."

"I... hadn't even thought about it," I stammered. Truthfully enough.

"I'm an intelligent man," he countered. "And you, you're how old?"

"Twenty-one, sir," I said, trying to keep things as clean as possible.

"College?"

"Laurel, sir."

"Then I assume you're an intelligent man as well, and intelligent people think. But no matter what you may or may not be thinking, my daughter is still in high school, and she still lives under my roof. Need I expound?"

"No, sir."

The rest of the conversation went on like that. It never got easy; the questions themselves weren't hard, but I felt embarrassed when I couldn't tell him what my plans for the future were or when I had to tell him I was still living at home with no graduation in sight and no career lined up. No matter what my answers were, he never flinched.

"Have you ever been to the Garden?" was his next question. Something I didn't expect.

"No, but I've heard about it."

"You may have come to understand that its former students who attend Cameron High aren't exactly in need of the education they offer there?"

"Cindy said something about that, yeah."

"It's a social experiment, you see," he explained. "They don't do much teaching at high schools; it's more of a way to keep young people off the streets and out of trouble for the majority of the day. They also learn social behavior before they get dumped into what we like to refer to as 'the real world'.

"I decided to install my children into high school for this experience; wheres others... you know Timber?"

"Drivved's brother, right?"

Samson nodded, "My son with Drivved's mother. She chose not to put her five in high school; Timber, being my eldest, tended toward her influence. Tell me, what is your view of 'the real world'?"

I had to think for a minute. "It sucks," I said after exactly one minute.

"Exactly. The Garden is not like this. People treat one-another with respect. Everyone works hard towards a common goal, and everyone achieves his or her own dreams through cooperation, and everyone takes their fair share of cleaning up after everyone else.

The Senior Ball hosted by Cameron High is for the seniors to engage in rather unscrupulous behavior as a reward for their year-long unscrupulous behavior. At the Garden, the Promenade is more of a dignified gathering of those who live to be eighteen. There are teachers from both the Garden and from Cameron as well as professors from Laurel, and there are parents.

 "Do you know the difference between an engagement and a wedding?"

Somehow, this man with twenty-something children didn't strike me as the marrying type. Especially after knowing Sampson. "Nothing's coming to mind." What the fuck was he getting on about, anyway?

"An engagement is for the couple. They already know their future lies together, so it's a simple giving of a ring and a nice dinner once things are decided. Possibly a romantic evening, the removal of prophylactics from the bed."

Okay, maybe this guy's cool after all.

"A wedding," he continued before he made me blush, "is for the family. You get married, the people you know want to see, and kiss, your bride. Or husband; we from the Garden do not discriminate. But you see, the wedding holds no particular interest to the couple; they made their decision back at their engagement. Do you understand?"

"I suppose I do."

"Of course you don't; you're too young to be worrying about that kind of thing. Remember only that all of my children are very important, and not just to me."

"I will, sir."

"Then we have nothing more to discuss. Dress smartly, yes? A sweater and corduroys will be acceptable, but slacks and a tie will work if you'd feel more proper."

I don't know why, but after he let me out of his awful room, I found myself wanting very much to fuck his daughter. For the time that she'd been sitting next to me, I thought I'd hit that already, so I found my own interest surprising. But that he was so protective of her as well as learning that she was still untapped territory made her seem very much appealing. My manhood once again came to attention. I would have to get something done about that, though I still had school that morning.

******

With seven days gone by, I was roasting away in my cozy bedroom, being myself. I had mostly forgotten about the whole thing. I was sent home without saying goodbye to Cindy, and the week went on. With the high school dance coming up, Becky found herself rather busy, but I seemed to keep fantasizing about her. Rather than jack off to the image of my sister, who was becoming more and more perfect in my eyes, I just kept my hands off.

Knock knock knock.

Becky.

"Hey, baby," said in my warmest voice upon welcoming her in. She looked pissed.

"Call for you," she said frigidly.

"...And?"

"It would seem that your 'date' will be waiting for you with your 'ride' at the horse stables Downtown."

I can't remember having seen her so angry. Her arms were crossed firmly, but she looked so adorable with her hair curling out of control. I just wanted to gather her into my arms and kiss every inch of her.

"Thanks, Beck," I said instead. I turned to go get ready, but she remained.

"Going somewhere tonight?"

"Yeah, there's this thing down at the orphanage. There's this girl needed me to be her fall-back; guess the other guy backed out."

"I hope you have a wonderful time," she said. She couldn't have made herself more clear if she had shouted. I felt sick to my stomach from the time I stepped into the shower to get ready to the moment I stepped off the trolley to the Downtown waiting area.

I could see giddy couples converging in their eveningwear; I let my eyes wander rather than engage, waiting for my date. Cindy met me in a glamorous dress that did her body justice, and she was wearing those same sunflower sandals that reminded me of that moment I decided wanted her. Her yellow dress matched perfectly and glittered with sequins. Next to her, Sara was dressed to match, wearing a rose-colored dress with rosepetal sandals.

"Derrick! There you are!" called Cindy when she saw me approaching one of the carriages that was to purvey us to the dance. Sara came with her; I took pity on them and met them halfway for the sake of their outfits. They collided with me and each kissed me on a cheek.

"Cindy," I said somewhat warmly, aiming a kiss on her cheek, but she intercepted me and got it on the lips. I was much happier to see her than I had expected; it took my mind off my grumpy sister. "Sara, date not here yet?"

I wasn't sure if I was supposed to shake her hand or kiss her as well. But they glanced at each other, then each took a hand of mine and pulled me past the carriages to the door of the art studio. A blank "Closed" sign punctuated the door, but Cindy pressed the face of her watch to the locking mechanism, and the door popped open. They pulled me inside and shut the door after me.

"There was a slight mix-up," Cindy said.

"Your date didn't show," I said to Sara.

"My date didn't show," she repeated.

"So... we need you to do us a really big favor," Cindy said. From the look on her face, I didn't think I was going to like what the favor was. But then, maybe I should catch an early night after all, go cheer my sister up.

"It's cool; I knew you two wanted to go together. I'll head back..."

"We wouldn't do that to you!" Sara interrupted.

"Yeah, we want you to take both of us!" Cindy finished.

I had to think about that one. "I donno... your dad seems kinda..." I had a whole speech prepared about how I should honor their father's wishes because I feared him killing me, but they turned to one-another and kissed. And not just touching lips like Cindy and I had done, they were crushed together, hands wrapped tightly around bodies, mouths pried open with seeking tongues. A kiss like I'd had with Sara a week earlier.

My cock, untouched since last week, was making quite an effort against my tan slacks. Cindy's experienced fingers dawdled along my belt line before plunging down my pants to take hold of me. Her cold fingers brought me to life; Cindy reached for her twin's breast, and still their kiss went on.

"Please?" they then said together, cheeks pressed close. Cindy's hand joined Sara's on my cock.

I was excited to no end. I thought the girls weren't down with this kind of thing, and my mind was alive with the possibilities. "I thought you girls weren't down with this kind of thing," I said with a catch in my voice.

Cindy looked at Sara, and Sara looked at Cindy. "Did I hear him correctly?"

"I think he said 'down'."

"I think he said 'down' too."

"Better do what he says."

Cindy then, to my amazement, dropped to her knees. But not to face me, she leaned up against her twin's legs. Her fingers slowly started to peel up the rose dress.

"We're not," Sara said firmly, looking me square in the eyes. "And it stays that way, do you understand?" Her dress had been pulled up to reveal her thighs; Cindy was planting gentle kisses on her tanned skin.

My mouth was watering. A few more centimeters, and a yellow thong came peeking out from under Sara's rose dress. "Completely," I affirmed.

"Good man," Sara said, squeezing my cock. Cindy pushed her sister's dress up just a bit higher, then planted a kiss square on her covered pussy. "When we get back, this place'll be abandoned. Perfect, wouldn't you say?"

"Umm... yeah," I gasped. "Perfect."

"It's where we get photo shoots done. There's a bed and everything." Her hand was doing wonders on my cock; there was no way this girl was as good as her reputation lent her. I wanted her to pull my cock out of my pants, to jerk me off until she came on her panties, to make her sister lick it up. I didn't want to go to the dance at all, not when there was a perfectly secluded bed waiting just a single flight of steps up.

Still, we went back out, all three of us very flushed, me holding Cindy tight in front of me as though I was so excited to have her around. Which I was, but it also held my erection out of sight. We all got onto the various carriages and took off.

The dance was a bust. While it was a nice place to be, it was every bit as stuffy as the girls' father made it out to be. People from every stretch of education were there; it was something like an opportunity for former students to meet adults who could place them in the right schools or jobs.

Still, we danced, the three of us, and I got to dance with any number of other girls. One particular favorite of mine was a busty blond who was nearly as tall as I am; she said she taught at Laurel and that I should check out her sexual health class. Hearing her talking about sex for two hours at a time was definitely something I could get used to.

The headmistress came out and said her piece, but I was too distracted with my two dates. Though they had a lot of face to show for the people there, they stuck close by me and flirted with each other endlessly for my benefit. Their father also showed up, being an important figure from Cameron High. He checked on us frequently, and the girls always seemed to know when he was around and behaved immaculately as such, but he had far too many other children to look after to have enough eyes for us.

I kept thinking I'd run into Sam or Dree, since both were former "Sprouts" as formers of the Garden are known, but I had to remind myself that this was a party for the eighteen-year-olds, and the two of them were already in their twenties. I was only there because I'd been invited.
As to the "party" part of the party, there was dancing and eating and singing; the headmistress herself played bass guitar with a band containing a particularly attractive drummer and keyboarder. The girls went wild, and fun was had by all. Still, the night closed uneventfully, and those few of us who couldn't stay in the school barracks headed out to the horse stables for the ride home. The twins, despite my fears to the contrary, joined me.

Fears, fears, and more fears. With my moments alone at the dance, I remembered my sister and the promise she made. Normally I don't worry about her problems, but I couldn't help but feel like I was her problem. And that was unacceptable.

The other part of my brain assured me that my sister was my sister, not my girlfriend, and that she'd take care of her own business, and that my business was to attend to the two sexy young ladies that promised to take good care of me once we were alone.

Speaking of alone, we pulled up to the Downtown stable, where those in town who got around on horseback left their mounts to go shopping. My blood was pulsing through my veins and through my cock, and the girls' hands were joined together in my lap, both rubbing me through my pants. My arms were around them and I got plenty of ass in my hands that night.

When we got let out, we all stood around and chatted. I knew how it went; it would take some time for everyone to dissipate. Translation: The three of us sneaking unseen into the studio would take all night.

Cindy was the first to disappear, looking for a bathroom. Sara was next, looking for her sister. With half an hour gone, I was pretty sure everyone had forgotten about them, and I casually made my way away from the crowd to slip inside the studio.

The door was unlocked, but it locked itself up nice and tight when it closed around me. The small entry room was empty as ever besides the usual paintings and stairway, which I took. Up the stairs, I finally got somewhere.

"Took you long enough," said a flushed Cindy, who was drinking out of a bottle of wine.

"...Where's your sister?" I asked, almost too excited by what was about to happen to believe.

"She's downstairs, taking a shower," she said plainly. Her own hair was wet and her makeup was gone, but she still wore her yellow dress and matching sandals. At this point I was feeling tedious: Did she really want me? She wasn't acting like it, but everything had gone according to schedule. My penis, standing around half-power, figured close enough.

From downstairs, I heard water being shut off. I didn't notice it before, but it was a very welcome sound. Two minutes later, a very wet Sara stepped up, also back in her dress and sandals. Cindy's face lit up when she saw her, and she offered her the bottle.

"So," Sara said after a healthy drink of red wine, "refresh my memory. What is beef-boy doing here?"

"He's the guy that volunteered to record us, remember?"

"Oh, of course. How silly of me."

Record? But duh, the bed was lined with tripods loaded with cameras.

"Now, where were we?"

Again, Sara was looking at Cindy, not me. The twins had a way of being the only people in a room as far as they were concerned.

"I think I was on my knees in front of you," Cindy said matter-of-factly.

"That's what I thought. Beef-boy, you know how to run a camera?"

"Uhh... sure," I stuttered, rushing over.

"Then get to it. Cindy, do you have anything to say to the camera before you begin?"

Cindy was already pulling her twin's dress up like she had hours earlier. But to my surprise, she turned to me, saying, "Derrick, I'm sorry we were screwing with you, but it's tough for Sara and me, not dating or anything. If you want, you can tell everyone I'm your girlfriend, and we can make out and public and stuff. Is that cool?"

"Plus, you get private shows," Sara added as she pulled her sister's face into her thigh. Cindy licked her there, and I admit it was difficult to turn them down.

"I... I guess..."

"Great. Cindy, as you were."

I went ahead and pulled the camera off the tripod so I could get whatever angle I wanted. Cindy pulled Sara's dress up high enough that the bright yellow thong was out in the open, and she kissed every bit of skin that was showing. I moved in nice and close rather than just zoom in, but they both smiled at me rather than chase me off. From that distance I could hear her lips popping off that wet skin every time.

"What do I do now?" Cindy asked sweetly. She was looking at me, not her sister.

"You're asking me?" I huffed in disbelief.

"Yeah. I want you to get your money's worth..."

I had to think about that for a m... "Kiss her pussy."

"Thank you."

That appreciation came not from Sara, but from Cindy, whose lips latched themselves on to her yellow thong worn by her sister.

"What will you girls do?" I asked hopefully.

"Dude, just tell us, don't ask stupid questions," Sara grumbled. She was starting to sigh, and Cindy was having to hold her hands back from moving the thong out of her way.

"Then I want you to to kiss," I said. Sure enough, Cindy smiled and got to her feet, and she wasted no time in kissing her sister again. They shared a few simple pecks, and I waited for things to get more interesting, but as far as kisses went, it was boring.

I grunted. "What's wrong?" Sara asked.

"Nothing, nothing," I said as fast as I could. "It's just, I thought you wanted to... you know..."

"You told us to kiss, didn't you? Aren't we kissing?"

"Yeah, but, you know, deeper."

"Oh," she said in sudden understanding. "You mean like this?" And she held Cindy's face in her hands and plowed her mouth right open, digging deep with her tongue.

"No no no," I interrupted again. "Not like that, more passionately."

They backed it up a little bit, but all they did from there was wag their tongues together a little. It was pathetic to watch.

"No, like this," I insinuated as I moved forward, but Sara blocked me.

"Hands on the camera," she warned. "What are we doing wrong?"

I recovered from her rebuff; I wasn't allowed to touch apparently, but it was still okay for me to direct the action. "Cindy, wet your finger," I instructed.

Cindy held her hand up between her lips and her sister's, extended her finger, and stuck her tongue out to meet it.

"Sara, you too. Her finger, not yours." My heart was pounding again; there was no way I was gonna get away with this. Sara's tongue poked out as well, and the two of them lovingly lathered Cindy's finger with their saliva. It then dipped into Sara's mouth, and Sara, bless her, began giving head to it. She then turned it into Cindy's mouth, who did the same. I was suddenly very upset that my cock was staying in my pants.

"That's enough," I said after I got my concentration back. Both girls were cooing softly as they switched the finger between their two mouths. Cindy had taken to licking her finger as it slid between Sara's lips, but she pulled it out obediently and held it still in the air between their faces, waiting for further instructions.

"Put it in her ass," I said, hardly allowing myself to breathe.

Without so much as blinking, Cindy reached down her sister's backside, pulled up her dress, reached under her panties and made Sara moan. I got down with my camera, and I saw what must have been the most perfect back end in my sexual career. Not a hair in sight; two perfectly-shaped pussy lips with a hint of pink squeezed in between and an adorable little asshole the exact same shade of pink. I got the most perfect view of a slender little finger pressing up against that delicate circle, and little by little, it pushed its way in. The most delicious moan came from Sara's lips, making me abandon my post from her rear end to get her reaction from her face.

"Wait right there," I said quickly, and I rushed up to flip one of the other cameras on. But why stop there? I turned the other two on as well, then I had the girls get onto the bed where all three cameras would be focused. Sara got in Cindy's lap, and I got one tripod camera focused on their faces and one on her ass with the third taking a more full view.

"As you were, ladies," I instructed.

The nifty cameras had each other's views, and it took me all of eight seconds to learn how to use the controls on the one I was holding to zoom in on Sara's ass and face simultaneously as Cindy's finger took its second trip inside.

It was worth it. Sara's face was all gone over in heavy pleasure, and Cindy was overly-excited by the effect she was having.

"Now let's try again," I said, my excitement growing all the time. "Sara, kiss your sister. I want you to lead." I especially liked calling them "sisters" with the cameras listening, as though it wasn't obvious enough that they were identical. Sara, her eyes heavy, now leaned forward with much more purpose, her hungry lips seeking out Cindy's.

They met at last, and this time it was much slower, more purposeful. This was no longer silly posing for the camera, this was need. You could see the hair standing up on every exposed inch of Sara's skin and you could smell the arousal coming from her. Every breath she took was spent crying for her sister's lips.

Their lips melded together in sweet little kisses or just got squished between two passionate mouths. Their tongues slid out on occasion to wet lips and whet appetites. Sara would moan on occasion, and Cindy would respond by kissing her more deeply or pushing her finger deeper inside her asshole. I wanted more than anything to help them, but I knew what the rules were. I wouldn't even touch myself; I needed both hands for the camera anyways.

The fine sheen of shower water that covered Sara was slowly being replaced by a sweet sweat. I wanted to lean down and taste it, but I couldn't. But then, what was I in charge for?

"Cindy," I said with my big-boy voice, "lick her once on the chest. Taste her sweat."

Cindy broke the kiss at once to do what she was told, and just like I had envisioned, her tongue fell out of her mouth to slide, just once, along the length of Sara's exposed chest from the bottom of the neckline of her dress all the way up to her neck, and she kept on going, licking her up her face until her tongue fell again into her mouth.

These two girls were amazing, the way they melded together. But even though I was sure they'd had experience together already, even they seemed surprised by the passion they were sharing at that moment.

Sara soon began gasping, "Fuck me," in short breaths while making sure she didn't lose her grip on Cindy's lips. From the viewfinder on my hand-held, I could see one of the other cameras was capturing Cindy's fingers drifting dangerously close to Sara's pussy, which had soaked her panties.

 "Ignore her," I insisted, and happily, Cindy was still paying attention. She pulled her fingers away obediently. "Keep fingering her ass," I reminded. "In fact, stop kissing. Just look into her eyes while you finger her ass."

She did, and the effect was instant. I knew right away that for whatever they'd done together before, they probably never took the time to just look each other in the eyes. It was one of the things I wished I could do in bed, but the magic always broke with every, "Hang on, I've gotta make a phone call," or whatever it was whichever girl I was in bed with had to say while I was trying to be romantic. The twins seemed perfectly enchanted with one-another, engaged in the simplest of sex acts, yet completely succumbing to the intensity of it. There was such longing in Sara's eyes, and in Cindy's was overpowering fascination.

**********

I can still smell the smell of their sex. Some weeks passed, and Becky wouldn't talk to me. But oddly enough, she seemed to make sure I was in range to hear about her new boyfriend, who would be taking her to the Senior Ball at Cameron High a few days later. Cindy had invited me as per our official dating status, but I declined.

"Please? We really want you to go with us," she had begged rather unemotionally.

I answered, "It's one thing for me to take the two of you when Sara's date drops out at the last minute, but I'm not taking you both to another dance; it'd be too obvious."

"We'll do something special for you," she'd continued. "You think that last one was good? That was nothing."

My heart may have skipped a beat at that, but I was pretty sure I wouldn't be getting any; there'd just be another filming session. I still haven't fucked Cindy yet, and my body was positively aching for her. I would be completely hard whenever I was around her, which was often. We boys could hardly meet up at the bar without her at least dropping in, her and her sister Salamandy. Sadie even started popping in, but she was just an annoyance.

But Cindy was every bit the submissive girlfriend in public, always interested in what I had to say while shying away from conversation with other boys. She flirted disgustingly with any girl that came near me, including Sally, which only made Sally want to clear out. But when Sara was around, I was always treated to at least a few private minutes of them kissing and telling one-another exactly how they wanted to make love that night.

I bet that if I had pressed it, I could've gotten Cindy into bed, but only just once, and I was enjoying the hope. The problem was that she genuinely didn't seem interested. Sara was alright at the time, not to say that she wasn't phenomenal in bed (or on the floor), but the two girls, their hearts just weren't in it. I knew fully well that they loved sex with each other, but not with anyone else that I (or anyone) knew of. It was almost as if they were exclusive to one-another, only they were both way too skilled with a dick for me to believe that.

Back to Becky: She seemed in love with the idea of going to the Ball, and I couldn't help but feel happy for her, but I was so damned pissed off at the same time. And why shouldn't I be? I hardly ever got off any more, and that was just when I jerked mys... actually, I haven't done that in weeks, come to think of it.

Not since the night I slept with Sara. Either way, Cindy put up with going with Sara, though I didn't see why they didn't want to include me in the first place except for me to make an appearance. Anyway, I was supposed to be dating one of them, not both. Then Becky, she still avoided me, but by the time the Ball rolls around, I'll bet I'll know more about her date than his own mother.

The day of course rolled around. It was a Friday like usual, giving Becky little more than two hours to get ready between getting home from school and having to get on the train to the hotel in the next town up, where the dance would go on. She positively clamored her way through the house for that two hours, cramming every minute into some productive means of getting her makeup just perfect, but by the time her date rolled around, she was screaming in fits.

"Bridezilla," I chuckled to myself. I had mostly locked myself in my bedroom as soon as I got home from my own class, and I was there when she had gotten back to get ready. She never knocked on the door or anything before she headed out, so I never came out.

I'll admit I was curious as to what she looked like after spending so much time getting ready, but I'm sure there'd be pictures. Suddenly the idea of some prick from high school going anywhere with my sister got me very upset, and I didn't care to make a scene. That was my sister's business, not mine.

*****************

She wasn't home when I got back late Saturday night after classes and beer. Nor was she there the next morning, but Mom didn't seem the slightest bit put-off; I'm sure that wherever Becky was, she had cleared it with her. She was finally around Sunday evening after I got back from Bill's house and cards, where Bill had laughed us all out the door, our cash in his hand. The last sound we heard was Sadie purring up from behind him.

"Bit late for only staying over one night," Ass-breath said as Becky came tuckered through the door.

Like I do, she ignored him, as well as me, and headed straight up for bed after saying two useless words to our mother. Ass tried challenging her ability to leave without his permission, but she blew right through him yet again. Brave of her, but she was eighteen and nearly out of high school. She could leave in as little as a month if she wanted to.

I took after her example and headed upstairs, but to my room rather than hers. I thought maybe she'd come talk to me as she sometimes did, but I got nothing. I just went to sleep, looking forward to another easy Monday of watching everyone else scramble for the first-of-the-week nonsense.

***

Another month went by. I stopped going out as much, and I stopped getting as many offers of romantic beds. The other boys saw the change in me I think, but Bill said to Sam that I was acting too much like Dree. I was too spaced out to think about it.

Cindy didn't seem to notice. With me not paying any attention to her, she didn't have to pay any to me, and she was free to conduct her business without putting on airs. She never mentioned what kind of time she had at the dance, and I didn't ask. That's for real couples.

I was fine to disappear in my studies, which suddenly seemed very lame, but classes dried up at the end of the season. I was looking forward to a relaxing summer to replace, but right in the thick of it I got swindled into going to Cameron High graduation.

"What for?" I had complained.

"Your sister's graduation, obviously," my mother said incredulously.

I went, but there was nothing special going on. It seemed like I knew half the girls that graduated, I'd even fucked some of them, but it didn't hold any interest for me. Things didn't get any more interesting later on when we took a train three towns over to find a restaurant that had a table for four.

While we sat around in wait, I did what I could to stay out of the conversation about "What're you gonna do about the future?" that Becky had to put up with from our mom and the other guy, just like I did years earlier. After waiting long enough, I excused myself to the bathroom. I have this thing where I like coming back to a table loaded with hot food and me with clean hands.

When I stepped out the lavatory, Becky was there. Not using the restroom herself; she was waiting for me.

"Hey," I said dumbly. Truth be told, we hadn't spoken in months. We were never best friends for life, but we had never gone so long without even saying "howdy" once every blue moon. I don't know when, but somewhere done the line I had become comfortable with it.

"Why weren't you at the Ball?" she asked crossly.

"Didn't feel like going," I said as dispassionately as I could.

"Too busy off fucking your new girlfriend?" she accused.

Hmm.

"I don't think 'girlfriend' is the proper word for it."

"Oh, right. That's my brother Derrick, the ladies' man. Too much man for just one girl, aren't you? But I'll admit, you had me fooled for a while. I thought you were going steady with this one."

"Who?" I asked in all honest curiosity.

"That blond whore, you idiot. Or was it even her you were with? Blow her off for her twin sister, did you?"

"I don't know where you're getting these ideas from, but Cindy and I don't really..."

"Ha!" she interrupted. "So it's true!"

I shook my head in confusion. "I know it seems like we're dating, but Cindy didn't really... we've never even fucked."

"And Sara?"

"Of course not! Well, yeah, that one time, but you were there, too."

"I thought you liked me, you jerk!"

Now I'm really confused. "Well, yeah, you're my sister."

"Is that really all? But don't even say anything; I know how you really feel. You'd skip from me to the next girl without even telling her about us. You probably wouldn't even break up with your last girlfriend properly first. At least I know you for the liar that you are."

I was getting pissed now. Grabbing her arm, I demanded, "Where the fuck are you getting these ideas? I know that one party we were at was a little crazy, but after that I never even..."

"I know all about you and the twins, asshole! I know about the video!"

"What video?"

"Don't play dumb; I know you ditched the party at the orphanage so you could fuck both of them at that art shop."

Enough was enough. "I don't know who's been telling you what, but I never did anything like that." I walked away, leaving her behind.

"She practically bragged about it!" she called after me, but she wasn't able to say anything else without attracting attention from the rest of the diners.

As I hoped for, food was there waiting for me when I got back. Unfortunately, I wasn't in the mood. Becky was sat next to me, and she shunned any further conversation. It was only too obvious that we'd been fighting by the restrooms, but luckily enough no one wanted to make a scene about it.

Mid-way through, Becky started looking less angry and more sad. I tried to avoid her eyes, but several minutes later, I felt her foot rubbing up against my leg. I passed her a casual glance, but her eyes were still sad and downcast. I tried to ignore her; she was somewhat famous for her moods. Still, to go so long without talking to me and then blow up only to turn around and play footsie with me in the space of an hour, it was a bit puzzling, even for her.

Then I felt Becky's naked foot sneaking up my pant leg. Dammit, my cock got hard again. Some months without a woman and my sister finally warming up to me, I felt like I was gonna come in my pants. Good thing I was already tucked well into the table, because Becky didn't hold back. Every time she readjusted herself in her chair, her hand went to my lap for support, and I swear her fingertips lingered over my hard-on.

Then I got to imagine her foot, pulled free of her strap-on heel she called a shoe. Her spiderweb tattoo and black toenails only made me want to give up staring at her breasts in favor of her feet, and I'm a man who likes a pair of breasts. As graduation was a big deal, she was wearing a dress almost worthy of a school dance, and her choice for that day was cut low enough to let her bra do some wonderful things for me to get distracted by as I tried to eat.

And it seemed she noticed. Every time I would glance down her chest, she would rub against me more and find something she had to reach across the table for. Her beautifully-spun black hair would spill little by little out of its delicate, spindly nest and fall across her face here and there, complimenting her black makeup, though she had some color to her lips and eyes for the sake of being photographed in public.

We were sat in a booth thing, so Becky had every opportunity to squeeze in tight next to me. Her leg rested across mine, and I could feel her dress pull up to her hips. When her plate was taken away and we started looking over the dessert menu, she pulled in even closer to me, hands under the table, so she could share mine. And with her hands under the table, nothing was stopping her hand from sliding across my thigh non-stop.

Ordering dessert got us talking again, and in time it seemed as though Becky wasn't upset anymore, which was a good thing for old Derrick. She still wasn't talking to me, per se, but her hand finally pulled up high into my lap so her slow strokes moved only over my cock.

Dessert went on like that; though we had our own dishes, Becky and I shared with one-another, still so tight together that there wasn't any room for our middle arms. Her left hand stayed on my cock the entire time, and my right arm was finally around her waist, feeling the hem of her dress. She only leaned further into me, still calmly petting my cock.

With conversation sparked back up, we were well into some wine (all around for the occasion) well past dessert. My hand lingered hopefully on Becky's side, hoping for some kind of change, but when she gave me no support, I finally pulled her dress up past her hips and rested my hand on her bare bottom. Oh, the sweet, soft, feel of a woman's ass in my hand once more it had been waaay too long. And to go with it, Becky sighed into my shoulder, even turned in to me, turning her ass further out into my hand and tossing her far leg into my lap.

Her ass was opened up to me, but I still didn't feel as brave as I wanted. But in a while, my clutches turned to wanderings, and I reached closer and closer to her center as she had with my cock, and finally my fingers fell upon the faintest whisper of a thong protecting her from me. Her fingers immediately squeezed around my cock, making me stop.

I was a bit surprised, so I just held my ground, but I was afraid of her backing off. Shortly after, my braver half took over (she was still petting my cock under the table with her leg thrown across mine), so I began to pet her pussy over her thong.

I shouldn't have worried; she began purring into me, undetectable by the two people sitting across from us. I felt moisture under my fingers, making me pull the thin scrap of cloth to the side and push an inch or two of finger inside her.

"Ahh!" she gasped rather loudly. We drew some attention, but she recovered in a flash, "I just remembered! Remember that one dessert I said looked gross because I couldn't pronounce it? I remember what it was now! Can I have one?"

Mom and her sack of shit glanced at each other, but Becky kept pushing the bill, "Come on, for graduation? Only one in a lifetime, right?"

That did the job. They commemorated on the two of us getting along again, she could only smile awkwardly as I pushed two fingers farther up her pussy.

The new dessert arrived on two plates for the four of us to enjoy. Becky's nose turned up at the sight of it, honestly disliking it, but I couldn't resist but mess with her. Having been fingering her for several minutes then, I pulled my fingers out, jabbed them into the cake, then thrust them into her mouth.

Everyone was surprised, and Mom scolded me for my behavior in public, but it blew over. Neither of them knew how Becky's tongue swam around my fingers, pulling every bit of her own taste off even as she squinted in disgust at being picked on by her big brother and the nasty crêpe blend. When she playfully bit down on my fingers, forcing me to withdraw them, my fingers were sparkling clean, but still smelling of delicious cake, saliva, and sweet, sweet pussy.

I put my arm back around her and she snuggled back into me, a perfect vision of sibling companionship. Only my hand trailed down my sibling's thigh to stop at her ass, and I didn't stop until my fingertips were placed back over her covered pussy.

She left my cock alone from that point, using both her hands to eat the cake, but I still explored with my fingers. After I rubbed her pussy for a few more seconds, I drew my fingers back, shaking, to touch her somewhere else. Her eyes widened at once; I knew right away I had crossed the boundaries. No way would I get away with doing this in open public. But still, I rubbed her cute butthole in little circles under the strap of thong. Her ass froze in place contrary to how she had moved with me when my fingers were in her pussy.

She gazed up into my eyes with those murderous, angelic blue eyes, set off so divinely by her otherwise dark features. She wasn't daring me to go on, nor to stop cold, nor even threatening my very life for my boldness; she was only questioning me with those eyes, questioning how her own big brother could do something so cheeky.

I shrugged invisibly at her and pushed my finger up her asshole. I felt her grip down on me, resisting me. It only felt better with each passing moment as the blood of my forefinger was drained away, forced out by her tight grip. She didn't hump back at me, and my finger wasn't wet enough anymore to get any farther in, so I just held it there, feeling her anal ring with little flexes of my finger while she continued eating the cake that she had ordered special despite not liking it. She didn't dare cause a fuss, didn't dare try to stop me. And to think she could have just sat on my hand.

When we got home, we all remained rather cordial for the few seconds of being inside. But I was quick to excuse myself upstairs, and just after shutting my bedroom door behind me I heard Becky's heeled feet clomping up after me.

My bedroom door flew open without ceremony, and my sister charged up at me and slapped me across the face. Before I could so much as blink, she reached for me, grabbed me by the hair, and pulled me down so she could kiss me hard. Her other hand went straight down my pants go bring my cock back to life, that cock which had been taking a break from being hard all day long. Watching teenage girls graduate is hard work.

Her girlish legs were clinging to mine, free of shoes or socks. One wrapped around my thigh to compliment her hand warming its way down to my rear end, and the other snuck in between my legs, inching closer to my groin. Just as soon as my dick got as hard as could be, she slammed her knee up between my legs, not even letting go of me. As I crumpled to the floor in abject pain, she disappeared off to her own room.

"Huh," I said to myself in my own head; I was in too much pain to speak out-loud. Suffice to say, Becky was behaving very strangely. I gathered myself up, got undressed, and found something much more suitable in my comfy sweats. So dressed, I went next door and let myself in, just like Becky did.

I was ready to let her have it, being quite put-off for not just tonight, but for the past several months. But instead, my will broke when I saw her curled into a ball on her bed, crying her eyes out. She hadn't even taken off her shoes.

"Becky? You alright?" I asked rather sweetly despite my recent pain. She didn't respond, but I sat down on the bed anyway and rested a hand on her shoulder. That lasted for a few minutes. I got over waiting for her, so I turned her to face me. "If I did anything, I honestly didn't mean to..."

"I hate you!" she said in a surprise turnaround. She began beating her tiny fists against my chest, but I caught them both, as we men do, and I reached for some nearby tissue to wipe the tears out of her face. She resisted, but I was firm. I ended up going through a few tissues since she was rather well-hidden behind some heavy makeup that was turning her face blacker with every stroke of tissue, but a steady supply of tears from her gorgeous eyes allowed me to finish the job.

With that job finished, I looked upon her face. The entire package, really. She was beautiful, my sister; there was no denying it. Her dress was black according to the school color, so was the delicious bra I couldn't comprehend her needing for a night out with her family. Not only that, but her makeup was rather unnecessary as well. But that was my sister, always dressed up. Her face, despite bearing her makeup well, looked exceptional while unfettered. It was a shame she hardly ever went without it.

Wanting her to feel loved, I leaned in to kiss her forehead. Her skin burned me, and I didn't want to pull away. But pull away I did, only to pull her close to me when she collapsed into my arms with further sobs.

"I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..."

On and on it went. She unburied her face from my chest long enough to kiss me on the chin, and she was gone again, getting tears on my rather ungamely nightshirt. "I'm sorry," she said yet again, giving me a kiss on the cheek this time.

When her third kiss came, it was aimed at my lips, and I was ready for her. Her hand had encircled my neck to pull me to her, and I was only too anxious to feast upon her sweet lips once more. Of all the girls I've kissed, I loved kissing her the most. She was so quiet that I was extra-sensitive to the sensations of her tongue teasing mine and her hands gripping me tightly.

Many girls I had been with had been stiff-tongued or stiff-lipped, others were too wet and too anxious. Some girls didn't even go for kissing in the first place, and that type was most common after I got out of high school. But Becky, she was good. It was so much fun kissing her, time seemed to fly by.

...And then stop. I was enjoying myself way too much, I forgot I was supposed to be comforting her. When she backed away from me and licked her lips, the mood sobered back up, and I remembered how I was supposed to behave. I put a comforting hand on her shoulder, naked but for the spaghetti straps that held her dress and bra in place, and I gazed at her warmly. Becky, she didn't know where to look or what to do. I think she may have muttered "I'm sorry" a few more times, but at least she had stopped crying.

We were like that for a few minutes, not frozen in space, but neither knowing what to do. Me, I couldn't help but want to kiss more. Part of me hoped she wanted it to. She had already kissed me once; I figured it was my turn, so that's what I did.

Immediately, the warm feelings returned. I positively adored kissing her, and she seemed just as enthusiastic as I was. I coaxed her tongue out faster this time around, and I tried to ply extra-deep with our kiss, but she backed off, giving me only a few feathery kisses. I stopped pushing, and she returned to a semi-deep kiss at once, one where she'd be able to keep teasing my tongue. My sister was a natural, and I'd wasted my mature life kissing girls who weren't worth the sweat on Becky's toes.

She was very relaxed in our kiss. I'm used to hands going all over the place, but hers were still, prompting mine to behave themselves as well. Since we weren't doing the "deep-and-shallow" kiss, our heads stayed locked firmly in place except for the occasional moment when we'd switch sides for a better angle or when she would back off, only letting me reach her lips, and only just.

My hand was rubbing her shoulder quite suggestively, and in time, my needs outranked my discipline, forcing my hand down her chest to clutch her breast. She gasped, and I weighed the soft flesh in my hand. I didn't want to distract either of us from our kissing, so I just held onto her breast like I had held her ass earlier that night. It indeed felt wonderful the way it fit so perfectly in my hand. And Becky began breathing more heavily to boot, and she let her own hand slide down from my neck to my chest, with her other feeling my thigh like earlier.

Her hands warmed up to my body rather quickly, and soon kissing was no longer enough. Slowly, deliberately, my hand grasped more tightly around her breast, my fingers closing together and drawing away until I had nothing but her firm nipple between my fingertips. I squeezed down on it gently, and I was rewarded with a more punctuated gasp from her sweet lips.

I kissed instead her neck, continuing to pinch her nipple. My lips made slow progress down her neck, staying only long enough to draw more gasps from her. Every time she sucked in air, I squeezed gently on her nipple again.

When I got to her shoulder, I again clutched at her breast. My lips traveled further down her shoulder to meet her straps, which I pointedly pushed out of my way so that my lips could reach her arm unfettered. With my other hand holding her breast ever so gently, I swept up with my thumb, catching her other straps, and they fell to the side as well. I could feel both of her hands reaching for my dick as my kisses zeroed in on her chest, and she gripped my staff hard when I sucked in the fat of her breast sticking out of her dress.

I pulled my hands away, allowing her dress to fall. I pushed her bra down with it, letting her breasts fall free, and no sooner did her sweet, dark nipples appear than I had caught one in my mouth. Her lips automatically fastened themselves to my ear, and one of her hands slid down my sweats while the other clawed at my waistband.

My cock was out, and I was pushed out of her way. Her lips were closer... closer... I could feel her hot breath, and then something moist touching the very tip...

"Is everything alright in... what's going on?"

In the very moment of hearing our mother's voice, I flipped the closest blanket in reach over Becky's body as I spun my head around. Thankfully, Mom was only just peeking around the corner, too late to see anything incriminating.

"What's wrong, Mom?" I asked, speaking for Becky, who, I imagine, must have been freaking out at (as far as she knew) getting caught and hoping everything would end in something other than her total demise.

"I thought I heard Becky crying from downstairs, but I wanted to give her a little time to..."

"I got there first; sorry, Mom," I said easily. "Just the stress of the day kicking in, you know." I wanted to get her out of there as fast as possible.

"Becky? You alright in there?"

"Yeah, Mom," Becky managed to squeak out. My unearthed cock was still inches from her face, uncovered by the blanket. If our mother was to get in our faces, there'd be no hiding it. "Thanks for dinner."

I don't know how she did it, but she sounded normal. Mom seemed satisfied, and she walked off with no further incident. I wanted to leap up and shut the door after her, but no way would I get away with it. "Becky? You okay?" I asked. Hopefully the intrusion didn't kill her mood.

"I'm sorry, Derrick..." Fuck. "...But we can't do this. Not now."

"But..." I don't like to argue with women, but dammic, I thought we were finally making headway.

"It's too dangerous tonight. I'll talk to you tomorrow, alright?"

Fuck.

4-4-1 Guys at a Bar Pt. 02 — Derrick advances on his sister, but is she just teasing

I abhorred to leave the party so early after such a successful venture, but one look at me tre amici, and I thought of their wallets, and of the pictures within. With the taste of pussy still on my cock, I couldn't help but think of Becky's picture in my wallet with something written on the back to the tune of "Thanks, Derrick, that was the best night of my life," with an imprint of her lips in the midnight purple lipstick she wore.

So off we went, she and I, off to the trolley that would convey us most of the way home once we walked to it, to be followed by another walk lasting a few blocks. She was tipsy, quite tipsy. I could have tried to ignore the smell coming off her, but with my hand on the small of her back guiding her steps, it was hard to avoid the reek of expensive beer and sex.

It should've bothered me that she was sexually active, but I didn't let it; that was one of my angles of being "the good brother". She didn't concern me terribly through my life since she would be there with me, but I always liked her, and now I liked liked her. She felt free to tell me any dirty secrets she might have, but she rarely did.

She was babbling nonsense now and then to tell me she was on the verge of being drunk, but not enough to be serious trouble for "the old people in the house". We snuck in through the side door, and I got her upstairs, and into her bed. I had to stop short of pulling her outer layer of clothes off, but she pulled me close for an appreciative (if chemically aided) kiss, which landed dangerously near my lips.

I got back to my own room next door as quickly as I could, but my heart was pounding out of my chest. I threw off my clothes and threw myself into my bed to deal with the raging erection that had been threatening to expose me to my sister on our walk.

Once my fingers were wrapped around my package, everything was gravy. The cute little girl tasting herself on my finger, then each of my friends' sisters, and finally Becky, showing even pretend affection for me. I had only gotten off once that night, which made the party a technical failure; post-party fapping was something of a shame, but I couldn't get my hand off myself.

Faster and faster I stroked, trying to cure myself of this disease brought on by infected women. Call it cooties; it's all pretty much the same. It was hard to respect them, dressing like they do and then flirting with everyone in sight all night, but it was hard to tell your swollen cock that. All it wanted was for you to feed it as many of them as possible.

And right then, it wanted me to feed it my sister. She was just lying there in bed, hardly able to move from exertion and drink. She had even kissed me, if only just. With just that one sign that she even possibly wanted me, I squirted out far too much messy goodness to be allowed, and finally I could sleep. Sleep, and an early morning for stupid school.

********

Ahh... delicious beer after a boring day at school. And the night before, I got my rocks off pretty good with a chick who was dynamite in the sack, and she never got my number. Life be good. It sucks a little that she got my name, but she was good enough for a second try, if I gave second tries.

"So?"

"So what, motherfucker?"

"Don't give me that innocent look, dickwad, did you score?"

Ah, boys. They can be cute at times. It was almost a certainty that Bill didn't get any at the party, the way he was bugging me. Sam, Sam doesn't give a shit. He pretty much gets his whenever he wants it. As the story goes, his father taught him how. I've been considering taking lessons as soon as I got the cash together.

But Sam, he didn't care whether we got ours. He got his, and he'd just smile down at us, who merely might have gotten laid. Dree almost never got his, and I was about as hopeful as Bill.

"What, that blond? It was alright," I said coolly. No point in sounding too pleased with myself.

"Psh; everyone knows you fucked her," Bill laughed. "I mean your sister."

"Oh, yeah. I actually caught her upstairs with some idiot, but they ran out. I donno what she got up to after that."

"Yeah, but you left with her, and she was pretty sauced."

"She still had plenty of time, though I don't think anyone followed her into her bed, if that's what you're asking."

Bill's face fell to the table and Sam had a good chuckle.

"What're you looking so voluminous about?" Dree snapped at Sam.

Ooh, brave man. Sam wasn't exactly prideful, but he didn't exactly take much shit. Not much at all.

So I was surprised when he clammed up. Turned a few shades of red, too. Now Dree was Sam's cousin of sorts, so he had mocking rights from getting all the dirty secrets from the family, and he was the one out of us who wasn't scared to take a little stab to wound Sam's pride. Sure, we'd make jokes that would threaten a man's sexuality, but not his manliness. That was for the girls. If that wasn't enough, Dree was like four years older than the rest of us. Not that that mattered; four years is huge when you're in high school (try dating a fourteen-year-old when you're eighteen. Shit doesn't work), but it's next to nothing when you're twenty, twenty-one and in college. Becky, she brought home a thirty-five-year-old like eight minutes after she turned eighteen.

"I take it I missed something," I said with giddy interest. Sam didn't take much heat, and Dree didn't speak up too often. Something was amiss, and I make it my vow to discover what.

"Miracle Man here, guess who he ran into."

Having seen him take four times as much tail upstairs than anyone else that night, I wasn't sure if it mattered who Sam had or hadn't seen. Not even Sultry Sally would spend two seconds on him. Unless...

"No," I stammered with growing amusement and a growing grin.

Sam raised a threatening eyebrow when I glanced at him, but my ears were all for the other two gentlemen at the table.

"Bill? Do this be true?"

"She shows up shaking in her heels," Bill said, joining in on the fun, "spots him chilling with us, and comes charging over."

Tiffany may be the most adorable little girl you've ever seen, but even cute numbers like her can have wicked streaks.

"Right up to the old poker game, eh?"

"Kweh," Dree affirmed. "Started chewing him out, right then and there. I thought I was gonna lose my beer."

"But you managed to keep it down; we even got another pint into you before the night was through," Bill added helpfully, "though you lost that hand, if I recall."

"So Tiffany," Dree continued, "she's all on about broken trust, how his nasty friends..."

"That'd be us, if you weren't paying attention," Bill added again.

"...Would go spilling to their little girlfriends, and all of a sudden everyone would know."

"Didn't stop her from yelling at him about it smack in the middle of a party, did it?"

"I wonder if anyone told her boyfriend."

"Was he even there with her?"

"You know him; high school extra curricula and all that."

"Uh huh. 'extra' curricula."

"No, seriously. The guy's a book-dwerb."

"Poor guy. If only he knew."

Sampson chose that moment to grunt a warning at anyone thinking about making implications about his sister.

"Sam, bro," I said, still with humor written across my face, "you know that in my heart I think Tiff is a great girl, not slutty at all." Calling a man's sister a slut was just uncalled for. "And out of respect for you, I keep her hand out of my pants, but just so we're clear, I don't think she's that much of a challenge."

"Yeah, man," Bill continued, ever-helpful, "without Sally on your list, I don't think you'd qualify as having gone the distance."

"She was there, too," Dree interjected.

"Seriously? How'd that go down?" Now it was getting good, and I was started to get frazzled at my sister for pulling me out of what was turning out to be a pretty interesting pool party. After all, while Tiffany furious with her brother for leaking about their private endeavors was rather interesting, she wasn't all that complicated. Never someone you could take seriously. Salamandy, on the other hand, had a brain; she just happened to love sex, wheres with Tiffany it was more accidental. What made it fun was that Salamandy doesn't really like Sampson and she hates Tiffany.

"And the twins there as well, if I recall," Bill mentioned.

"Dang, full house. Drivved, my man, you were saying?"

"Ah, yes," Dree began, taking on airs of significance with the aid of the atmosphere and his frothy brew, "twas the fortnight of..."

"Ah, can it," Sam blurted out, making the rest of us sputter with ill-concealed mirth. "Who was off with your sister, now that we're on the subject?"

"Me?" I answered innocently, "I already mentioned, didn't I?" True, it was nothing for me to cheer about, but I was good enough to play it off without taking too much flack away from the wounded Sampson.

The drinking done and the day with it, we cheered ourselves and each other one last time before retiring that Saturday to prepare for... you guessed it, another boring day of school. For me, at least. I haven't got a fucking clue what the rest of them do Sunday morning.

******

Fuuuck, my neck gets tired awful fast. I honestly enjoy college classes after surviving the nightmare that was high school, but it seems I cannot escape my fate of continuing to warm an uncomfortable school desk for three hours at a time in pursuit of an education I had yet to discover a use for. My pain was somewhat eased by the constant presence of the crunchable college girls that were taking trig with me. I never get tired of looking at something I don't want, and catching a glimpse down someone's obnoxiously open shirt always brightens my day.

Sunday. Sunday was not the best of days in Rotterdale. Fridays and Saturdays, those were bumping. Sunday was a day of rest. We weren't overly religious; we have a temple and a cathedral and a church. Still, it's... what's the word? "Grownups' Day". They finish with church or whatever and peruse through town rather than work. They even spend time with their kids. Not a good day for hunting scratch, not good at all. With my parents off work as well, it's just time for me to spend in school since there's nothing else worth doing.

And now class is over for the day. Six in the evening, and Rotterdale is back in the twenty-forties, when my parents were my age. Can't even go to Julie's since it's cramped full of old people like everywhere else.

Ergo, Bill's house.

"Hit me."

Dree got a sock on the arm from Sam.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

Somehow Dree still got his card, and he pwned all our faces with his straight.

"I hate me some Sunday, man," Bill complained. He was a pretty good host. His parents were chill when they were around and we got to sample the liquor cabinet. None of us minded seeing Sadie around, except she got used to the three of us crashing Sunday evenings and tended to be somewhere else so she didn't have to hide in her room all day.

"Want to catch a game?"

Being that Rotterdale makes both bread and butter off its huge stadium and arena, there was almost always some kind of event or another on any given day. The first Sunday of every month featured boxing, though the scene was never as hot since the great Rocky Stetzen retired, well before any of us were born.

"Hardly." Bill poured himself another few drops of Drambuie and scoffed at his incoming hand, "I'm never fucking getting laid."

"More for Drivved the great," Dree beamed. Sure enough, a few tossed cards later, he ate up the small pool of antes that could have been bigger if he had kept his foolish mouth shut.

We're not competitive gamblers by any means; we just began throwing extra money down to make the game a little more interesting once upon a time. None of us were rich, only getting small stipends from taking so many classes or baby paychecks from off-and-on jobs, and all we really had to play with after certain modest personal effects was what we called "date money."

Sure, we hit up parties every once in a while or got lucky out of nowhere, but sometimes a man likes to hit up a fine piece of ass and take her out to a proper dinner in hopes for a bit of late-night fin in a hotel room. Winning on Sunday night meant having enough to go north to a nice dinner at the nice hotel. It may impress the ladies, but it's also about spoiling ourselves by spending other people's money. Especially after winning it from them.

Tonight, Dree was in line for the honors. It rather pissed us off, since he'd probably fuck up whatever date he got if he had the balls to ask a chick out, so our precious money would just fatten his pocket while the rest of us had to put up with our usual sneaking into girls' bedrooms or whatever.

Sam had it worst, there almost always being someone awake in his house when he tried to sneak in, and his dad was a real pain about his kids bringing anyone over without introducing them to him first. Tended to make sure only real friends and dates got brought over rather than Sam's usually one-night-only fare. Dree, he lived with his mom a few days a week while he went to school; the rest of the time, he was off in the Garden where he grew up. There wasn't much privacy, but you eat pretty well there and there's work for some decent money. Me, I never feel like breaking my back in manual labor.

Oh yeah, point. The four of us don't really have our own places to get laid. Hotel money is a good thing. Now on with the game.

The game was about over when Sadie came back with a few of her harpies. Rather than sit there, subjected to their schoolgirl giggles, we were faster to put whatever we had on the table. In a stroke of luck, I ended up getting a few winning hands in a row and managed to sweep the table.

"Prick," Sam muttered at me, but it could've been Dree.

"Don't deal like a horse's ass next time then," I said comfortingly as I collected my bounty. With my other two boys, I grabbed my shoes and my shirt, polished off my Knob, and headed for the door.

"Good evening, Sadie," I said quite suavely to Bill's sister, even kissing her hand in front of her friends and mine. "Night, bitch," I said over my shoulder to Bill. Ha ha ha.

****

Ahh, the possibilities of a fatty wallet. I'm not afraid of a hard day's work, but I abhor getting a job and a uniform and doing the same boring thing every day. My mom said she'd pay for me to go to school, so I did that rather than get a job. She gives me a little money because she understands that it'd be near impossible to get a job with the hours I have, but in turn her asshole husband cut me off from the fridge except for what I buy for myself. Prick.

"What're you grinning about?" my sister asked me. We don't talk much, so the thing about the party a while ago just died away without ever getting anywhere.

"Nothin', nothin'." I at my roast beast in peace, though I couldn't stop grinning.

"I'm glad you had a good day, dear," my mother added. She and her asshole husband had been off doing their thing that day, so Becky had been enjoying the run of the house until they got back. I wonder where she hides the sheets when she finishes.

Dinner at home was a bit uncomfortable. Since I was forced to buy my own food, I wasn't about to pass up a free meal, even though Mom insisted the family eat together every Sunday evening anyway. It was about the only time all four of us were in the same room. Becky and I never really got used to the asshole, see. Still, only one night a week. Never my favorite night.

The thought of a big pocket of spare change was keeping my spirits up, and it was obviously bugging Becky that she didn't know exactly what was going on in my head. I finished dinner in a timely manner and excused myself without pissing anyone off, and I was off for my room.

Knock knock.

"Go away." Usually it was my mother, if anyone, who came bugging me, but whomever it was, no one minded me acting a little bit of a jerk.

"Lemme in, you jerk," Becky called.

I let her in.

"Teh fuck you want?"

"You were smiling at dinner. It's unnatural."

"Let's just say your big brother's got a hot date set for this Friday," I beamed, more in pride than anything. Money wasn't easy, so having won a good handful of it was a pretty good feeling. That, the waiting to spend it, and the actual spending itself. Then there's the coming-down when you're broke again, but I refuse to think about that now.

"Eew! Who's the fugly bitch? That middle-schooler you fucked last Friday ago?"

So she had been thinking about it. And what the fuck? I didn't bring up me catching her with some loser.

"She was eighteen," I lied. Or not; I honestly had no idea.

Oh fucking shit... I have no idea if she was eighteen...

"You sure?"

"What you want?"

"You want to know how old she really is?" she goaded with the delight of having such a secret to torment me with.

"Not really."

I was getting nervous. I'm only twenty, but laws were getting ridiculous about 'carnal knowledge'. If you were a certain age, you couldn't touch someone a day under eighteen, though a girl a week away from her birthday is more forgivable than one about to turn sixteen. Admittedly I had quite a bit of that 'carnal knowledge' that parents were so afraid of their daughters being exposed to, but still, the town rule has always been that kids can date anyone inside the four-year range. Whether the parents knew that, the kids did. They didn't necessarily tell their parents about it, mind, especially if, say there was a sixteen-twenty?

Still, not good if someone thinks it's funny if the girl I nailed ("made a permanent dent in the bed" more accurately) wasn't quite as ripe as I would've liked for my own safety's sake. It's not really wrong, but you can't ever be too safe. And I, I hadn't bothered to be safe.

She was close to me. Glaring down at me. Her tits weren't popping out of her shirt, but there was quite a show when she bent over to give me the second degree. And those eyes... those ice-blue eyes with that jet-black hair. The contrast draws you to her eyes no matter how hard you try to look down her shirt, and then the rest of her face kicks in, usually little stylings decorating her face done with an eyebrow pencil. Absolutely...

"...Perverted."

"Huh?" Thank God I had been staring at her eyes when my mind wandered off; it wouldn't do to have been caught staring down her chest. Of course thinking that made me glance down. Her eyes were locked on mine when I looked back up.

"You're nothing but a dirty pervert," she repeated. "What if she got pregnant?"

Okay, enough. "Now you're just being silly," I snorted, standing up suddenly.

She was in the middle of a smart-ass smirk that said she knew better than I did about something, but my sudden leap forward made her stumbled. She fell back on her ass; I went with her in trying to catch her; it was a rather marvelous display of heroics on my part. Perhaps she'd rethink her high opinion of me. "You alright?"

She shoved me away and got up on her own. "You just better hope Mom doesn't find out what you did," she snapped on her way out.

To think that her lips were so close to mine and I didn't do anything about it kept me up that night. I was rock-solid, and I couldn't bear to drain the pressure out, so obviously perving over my own sister. Last night was one thing, but a second time? No, that'd be too weird, wouldn't it?

 But still. Sam did it, that much everyone knew. His sister, that is, not his hand.

We thought he'd been bragging hot air, but the way Tiffany blew up at him, it was too obviously true. Was it possible? Was it? And if that line could in fact be crossed, perhaps Sam's case wasn't unique. Perhaps Sadie, that hot-and-cold fox that thought of her brother more of a scratching post than a pillar of might, had in fact given herself to him, alcohol aside. Bill can be full of shit when it comes to women, but there was a twinkle in his eye that was indistinguishable from Sam's. Were there more? Would I get my turn? Could I?

Keeping my hand off my equipment was more painful than had imagined. I almost humped a hole into my sheet, but reminding myself that I'm not the one to do my own laundry seemed to save me. For that night, anyway. After that, images of Becky in her rare moments of simple booty shorts and my old wife beaters, sitting on the washing machine, swinging her bare feet and blowing bubble gum...

God, I've got it bad.

***

So much to do. So much to do, yet so difficult to choose. Rotterdale is a small place, so the townsfolk tend to know one-another, but since some of the biggest pioneers of the new wave green public transit movement lived in this town, we were wired in to the major tracks leading to the big cities.

Not just a tourist attraction for some of the boxing and modeling celebrities we'd grown here, but our Downtown was one of the best in the area, being outside of the local metropolitan influence, and we were something of a straight shot between Raleigh and the beach. Ergo, always someone new to look at. To hunt. I'm a headhunter. It's how I get down, baby.

Too many new faces. Too many options. Makes me freeze up. All an enterprising young malchik like myself wants is five or so fins to choose from, but I've got a hundred today it seems. To shorten my options, I'll stick in one spot: The beach.

Loveliest beaches on the east coast were right on our doorstep. It wasn't summertime, but who gives a shit? There was still shopping and walking to be done. Since this bit of land went environmentally friendly, people are on their feet more often, and the beach was practically dragged closer to their feet with the introduction of mass transportation without the heartbreak of public parking.

I found myself an empty seat on a tiny table in a French café. The owners were French, so they could give less of a fuck if you sat in their chair all damned day long, but it was a courtesy to buy at least a mug-full when you sat down. It was a small price to pay for delicious, quality product, what you come to expect being so close to Rotterdale Proper.

The primary advantage I was looking for from this spot was the view. If I stretched my legs just a bit, I'd get sand on my feet. I could see the whites of people's eyes when they got licked by the mild waves. There was decent trim this time of year, and it was a hot day.

This all seems like a rather do-withoutable bit.

Giggling drew my attention; a pair of blue eyes glanced at me from under a frame of dark red hair. Holly Childer, Dree's sister. Rumored to be turning eighteen in about eight minutes, but no one had the balls. Her older sister Kairi was more of a reclused, blond mouse that no one found attractive despite her credentials, but Holly looked like she'd break you in half with one innocent, blank stare.

Always wore the same style outfit: Long, black sleeve-gloves, black thigh-high socks under a pleated skirt or summer dress, and a black headband that kept her chin-length, straight red hair out of her face. Had one of those bodies that looked like it would break your heart when it dropped.

Our eyes locked. My crotch stirred. Firstly, she was Dree's sister. Second, she probably didn't know if she recognized me, even after I gave her a small nod of acknowledgment. Third, Ivy's as bad a sister as Sally, Becky, and Sadie, and therefore talks shit about me and the boys to everyone who'll listen, so my H-rating is probably ruined to Holly. Shame. Not that I needed it, but that's not a body you turn down, nor is the hair.

Her I know damn-well ain't eighteen yet. The last one, that was a mistake. Holly, I had my eye on, but so did half of the senior class of Rotterdale that would be freshmen in high school by the time she became of age, by which time she'd be (supposedly) working on her doctor title and probably helping teach whatever classes those boneheads taught. Me, I had an angle, being her brother's friend. But then that would be relationship territory, which spells death for my friendship with Bill. Why risk all that for a beautiful girl that I don't know? That, my friends, is the time you think with your upper brain. On with the story.

She was with a couple friends. They saw our mutual recognition, and they possibly inquired after me. I'd probably get the "friend-of-a-brother" treatment on her word, which wasn't the best of situations, but it wasn't impossible. Still, when you're out hunting heads, it's best to keep it simple. Find someone who doesn't know anyone you know. It can get hard after a while when you're on the same college scene, hence the beach.

I only wanted to do some studying today to see if the same faces popped up a few times. They were either regulars, or vacationers. I wanted someone who was just passing through, who was either staying at a hotel or had a place another town over.

So it vexed me a little bit when I saw a face I couldn't resist. Dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. Her outfit was more typical of the cityfolk, but the resemblance to my sister was only too obvious. I threw the idea away, but it kept jabbing at the backs of my eyeballs over the next few hours.

The café served a few food items, so I kept my hunger sated while I watched. I came with money to spend on a good date with a carefully-selected female, and snacking was part of that budget. One of the few times I would eat out, no matter how good the victuals are in this town. "May I sit down?"

I looked up into a pair of icy blue eyes. Eyes so clear and colorful amidst a sea of dark hair, your own eyes were drawn right to them. Breasts, not bad. Her hips were grown in. Dressed smart, but a little flashy: A young professional who hadn't forgotten how to have fun. She could be wild on the weekends and pop however many Vicaden she needed to appear immaculate for her board meeting first thing Monday morning.

"Please," I offered, standing up and pulling a chair out for her. This display of male-to-female respect was more of a learned behavior than a personal preference. Besides, I was shopping. This is when you're supposed to be charming, and who am I to turn a dolphin down that comes to my shore?

"Have you eaten here before?" I asked her when I passed her a menu.

"No," she said as I guessed she would. "I work in Raleigh, but I decided that I was finally gonna use the train pass I have to go to the beach and relax, seeing as it's pretty much right next door."

"On a Monday?" I called the garçon over and selected a pair of samplers I thought she might enjoy.

"My days are odd," she explained, "and I've only got four shifts in a week."

"Must be a nice job."

"It's a start; I don't know if I'm gonna stay in the company, though."

She was easygoing and not a complete idiot. Add that she wasn't hard on the eyes and didn't live in town, and I'd say I'd already found a winner.

"You got tomorrow off, too?" I asked boldly. The ice wasn't exactly broken, but if I wasn't going to get anywhere with this chick, I wanted to know now so I could move forward or move on.

"...Yeah, why?"

"I was just thinking, I was gonna go chill out up north for a bit, poke around a bit. Since you've already got a train pass, thought you could come along and goof off if you weren't up to anything too serious." Bless those train passes. I heard horror stories of it taking half a day to get a few dozen miles south on those horrid buses they used to have a few years ago. Now that the new mag-lev was installed coast-to-coast, you could get across the damn country in seven hours with a universal train pass.

"Aaand... what does that have to do with me taking tomorrow off?" she asked coyly, but her absent-minded, slow stirring of her coffee was a green light for me.

"You know; maybe if you wanted to get a couple drinks, make a night of it..." Ooh, I was playing it cool. Her eyes were doing the little "decision" dance. She needed more bait.

"Thing is, I usually go up there anyways, maybe once a month, treat myself a little bit. Wouldn't hurt nothin' to have a little company."

Her eye movements quickened; she was considering. Bingo. "Sure, why not?"

***

"It's kinda nice, you know? Causal dates like this."

"Totally." Turns out she had been pretty good company while I did my usual thing walking through the lesser city of "up north a ways." She didn't complain about anything, didn't spend the entire time on the phone, shared in the experience rather than just follow me everywhere or drag me everywhere. We ended up in the big hotel where all the big-scale parties end up that Rotterdizzle can't facilitate. They employ a pretty good executive chef; part of the fun about having such a budget is that you can get a room and dinner. I offered to pay for hers, but she picked up hers and mine since I had already reserved the room.

"You can just have a good time with someone you don't know, then forget about it the next day if you want to. Unless there's something special, you know?"

"Pretty much," I agreed. How nice. I didn't have to explain anything the next morning before we parted ways.

"Unless... you know, you're looking for a steady thing?" Always a catch.

"With you? Nah." Whoops. Made her frown. "I mean, you're really cool, but I think my sister would kill me if she saw you."

"Did I anger her god or something?" she asked with a short laugh.

"Nah; it's just you kind of look like her." I leaned in close to whisper, "I kinda have this thing for her. Awkward."

She had leaned in to listen, and she backed up when I had done, and with a laugh. "That's kinda cool, a little kinky." She was smiling widely, her tongue moving through her teeth to taste my scent in the air. Slightly narrowed eyes of a satisfied lioness. Bingo. Loosen the bolts a little bit. Keeps things open if you want to get a little more rompy at night.

"But I'm having a great time with you, really," I added. "I'm glad you sat down with me earlier today."

"How could I not, you staring at me for who knows how long?"

"Was I?"

She paid the check, and up we went. This hotel is really cool, by the way. The rooms all have themes. There are time-zone ones and cultural ones. We were staying in eighteen-fifties France since we met in the French café.

"This place is great!" she exclaimed. "Do you come here often?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" I joked. But honestly, does a girl really have to ask how often a guy stays in a hotel? Odd point real quick: They know you're no virgin, but do they really want to think you've got a new bed buddy every week? No, they want to feel rare and special. Funny thing, being that they're not, and they wouldn't keep you around a moment longer than it took them to figure out you weren't placed on the planet for advancing them in the world. It's a sickness women have.

Instead of bantering with her, I turned her around and kissed her. She was open to the idea, and held me gently as our heat worked up together. We had been building on sexual tension all day, and it was steaming out from both of us. I would have loved to undress her out of working pumps and a skirt, but I had to deal with boring white sneakers and day jeans.

Once she was de-pantsed, I set her on the bed and got to rubbing her pussy through her boring patterned panties.

"My my, you work fast, don't you?"

"Not really," I countered, "I just thought I'd do something different."

"Your room; you're the boss."

I like this girl's attitude. I might even get her number.

I kept rubbing her panties and kissing her, and her hands were equally quick to get to my own pants. Once I got her decently wet, I dropped down in front of her, slid one leg out of her panties, and went to work on her pussy.

Sweet, this girl. You never know if they shower the day before or what, but she was neatly trimmed, clean, and fresh. Very delicious. Some girls look alright on the outside, but they forget to take care of the basics.

I ate her with a bit of vigor. It's not my favorite, but I wanted to do something special to this girl.

She took it for a while, but in about three minutes she was calling for my cock. "Stay right there," I suggested, and I crawled up to the head of the bed and stuck my dick in her mouth, telling her, "touch yourself."

From my position, I could get things moving a little faster if I wanted to, plus I liked to touch her arm to feel her fingers moving inside herself. There's just not enough female masturbation in the world.

Then I fucked her, and I came in her mouth. She said she liked the taste.

"I don't normally do this, but turn over."

"I'm not that kinky."

"Come on, we've got all night. I want to give you a massage."

And so I did. When I didn't go anywhere near her tail end, she was quite surprised, though I can guarantee you that by that time she was looking for it subconsciously. We were ready for another one, but all I would do was eat her out again, which I kept up until she came pretty hard. She said she'd suck me off for a while more, but I encouraged her to keep it up once she got started, so she got me to come again, and again she swallowed.

"I like the taste," she shrugged.

"Believe me, I'm not complaining. Shower before our third go?"

"Love one. They got a spa tub?"

"Bubbles and sparkling wine included."

**************

"I fucking hate men!" Slamming doors, ect.

Hmm.

Hi, people. Me again. It's a few days or something since the hotel, now I'm back home, enjoying some quiet moments of reflection. Then my sister comes home, shouting because she'll cry if she doesn't.

A few ways to go, here. One, I play the sensitive brother who's "different" from the rest of the assholes my poor, disillusioned sister knows. Two, I can be one of the assholes by way of taunting her for been a poor, teenage victim to the more mature caste of our sick little town. Three, I can mind my own business, knowing full well that my sister in a bad mood is enough to make a grown man (me, in this case) cry.

Knock knock...

"WHAT?"

Only for her. Still, makes you wonder whether this was such a good idea. "Beck? Do you wanna talk?"

I know; I'm asking for it. But try to understand, this girl, this sister of mine, has been starting to infiltrate my dreams at school.

"No." The rejection had come fast and hard. With our parents gone, I knew she was doomed to cry in her room for the next twelve hours, possibly running up the electricity bill in the meantime.

"Maybe I can help," I offered anyways. "I couldn't help notice that it was the demon known as 'man' that you're upset at. Being one of them, I may be able to shed some light. Maybe help you understand a little? Might make you feel better?"

We haven't been scribing all our adventures, the boys and I, but I think that was the sappiest thing I've ever said. One of the reasons we don't tally is because we boys don't share these more "tender" sides of ourselves with one-another.

The door clicked open. There's my sister, looking like a goddamned beauty queen. Eyes red, but not teary. Breaks my heart in half, really it does. I may wave an "anti-woman" flag once in a while, but my sister doesn't count. She's way too cool.

She stared me down as though I was really "one of them," but I used every ounce of compassion I usually stow away and threw my arms around her.

"Derrick, what the fuck?" she exclaimed in alarm, but I ignored and hugged. It took a few seconds, but she ended up giving me a few pats on the back of her own, if only to get me off. "Away," I should say.

She parted from me and took a seat on her bed, asking, "What I wanna know is, what gives you fuckwads the right to..."

Instead of letting her build up a head of steam that might work against me, I hushed her up. "Let's go downstairs," I suggested quickly. "Mom and Assfest won't be back for a long time."

"What the fuck for?"

I asked her again, and she resisted more, but eventually she warmed up to the idea of doing something productive rather than tear up on her own for some endless hours like had happened plenty of times already. Me, I've shed a few tears of my own back in my high school days. Wasn't pretty. Becky, she was always pretty cool about it.

I sat her at the kitchen table and got a big-ass bottle of vodka. Good stuff that we boys get when we want to do some real drinking. Bill's place has every kind of good stuff; but over here, we're not supposed to drink. I get myself cranberry juice, tomato juice, shit like that you can put vodka in.

After taking a few shots, Becky seemed to be more relaxed. I was getting there as well, and at some point I put my hand on her thigh. A harmless gesture, the part of me wanting to provide physical comfort for her.

"Who was it?" I asked in due time.

"Some prick from your school," she spat, instigating Laurel University in the crime. "Why the fuck don't you guys pick on girls your own age?"

Oh dear. It seems as though my once-innocent little sister, while knowing full-well she plays the game as I do, has discovered the deeper secrets that plague our town: The Rotterdale Sickness. Do I tell her about it, or do I shush her with more comfort and more booze, then put her to bed?

"Because girls our age are all fucking their professors or their managers," I said simply. "Or the upperclassmen if everyone else is taken.

"Go fuck yourself."

I patted her on her thigh a bit, and the alcohol was helping her slouch in her chair. "I'm serious, Beck. Guys in this town are evil, but so are the girls. In college, all the chicks are taken up by older guys, usually married, or jocks or whatever. So yeah, you high school girls are kind of all there is left."

She scoffed.

"What? Like you're so busy dating high school boys?"

"At least college boys are out for an education or something," she admitted. "High school boys, they're just trying to get into the college parties, but they're not afraid to talk to girls like me, but only to get into our pants."

"So we're agreed? Everyone's equal trash all around?"

She agreed. We both drank to it and laughed it off. With a serious look in her hooded eyes, she asked, "Why can't I meet any nice guys like you, Derrick?" I got nervous about my hand being on her thigh, but she placed her hand atop it, encouraging me to grip her. This was getting dangerous.

But I couldn't help but scoff at her ridiculous claim. "Me? Nice?"

"Yes, you." Those adorable blue eyes again. That outfit, those boots...

"I gave up being a nice guy a long time ago."

"How come?" For once, she looked like she wasn't thinking about her own problems. She had turned her chair towards mine and scooted in, effectively driving my hand further up her naked thigh, dangerously close to her "I'm too mature for high school to cover my legs" skirt.

It was difficult for me to think, what with her warm skin resonating with her heartbeat under my hand. She and I, we didn't do much bonding like this, but there've been occasions. But her, gazing up at me, genuinely interested in what I had to say, leaning forward just so slightly, I just couldn't concentrate.

I purposefully rubbed her thigh some more instead, giving me something to concentrate on. "I donno, Beck." The frill of her skirt was in reach. Alcohol or whatever, I started playing with it; her fingers slid around my wrist so she could still hold my hand without disrupting me. She watched with me, but she was still curious to what I had to say. "I guess I got tired of looking and never finding a catch like you."

 Her eyes brightened up right away. "You think I'm a catch?" she asked. "Really?" She scooted even further off her chair so that my hand slid under her skirt all the way to her hip. I subconsciously held her from the other side with my other hand as well as I turned to face her squarely; she seemed to be loving the attention than being put off at where her brother's hands were. But instead of the refute I expected, she was holding my elbows. It was the first time she had let go of her glass.

"Let's be honest, Becky," I said through the pounding of my heart. Probably the vodka, hard at work. "You're beautiful, I love the way you dress, you're not stupid, and you're not mean. You've never been mean to me, that is. Not really." Sure, she and I have had sibling's spats, but we were always on the level.

"Sure, there are girls who aren't empty-headed and look good, but they're all back-stabbing, heartless witches. Not you, though." Smooth, Derrick. Award-winning.

The damnedest thing happened. She leaned forward, tits trying to spill out, and kissed me.

No, not on the lips. On the cheek, somewhere. Like a sister that had just gotten the best advice from her loving older brother. With one last shot of medicine, she hopped up with new energy and fucked off back to her room.

And here I am, sitting alone in the kitchen with a boner trying to scream through my pants.

Phone.

*****************

"Nice one, Dree."

"Go farnque yourself, clunt-stubble."

Dree took his second shot, and the ball bounced off the rim like it had the first time. Sam caught the rebound, giving Dree and himself a second go around.

Our game had gone on for the better part of two hours before Sam's girlfriend called. I think it was his girlfriend. He answered when she called, which was damn-near proof enough that's who it was. It's just that he never said anything about having a girlfriend and he slept around enough for all three of us, his own sisters aside.

The other two guys and I parked our tired asses on a bench to laugh at the disposed. But as though on-cue, my own phone started ringing. I repented getting the fucking thing ever since my mother gave it to me shortly after graduating. "It's for safety while you're in college, Son," was the excuse.

"What?"

"I wanted to... umm..." My sister. It's not like she never called me before, but that she'd come looking for me rather than pick up a phone. I was usually always at the college, Julie's, or one of the guys' houses, so I wasn't hard to find to begin with.

"Becky? Problemo?"

"I wanted to... shut up!" Someone next to her had said something smart-assed to her, but something struck my attention: She was nervous. Anxious. Jittery of voice. "I wanted to tell you that I love you, and that I really appreciate what you did for me last week."

"Yeah, sure," I said absentmindedly, trying to play it off for my audience.

The phone was silent for several pointed seconds.

"Beck?"

"..."

I checked the connection. Still working. While we're not on the level of some of the machines they have for employees of the Garden like Sam's and Dree's parents, but dropping calls was almost unheard of in decades.

"Well, I love you t..."

"...My friends told me."

I wasn't used to her interrupting me, so the shock of it hit me before the shock of it. Dree and Bill both marked out somewhat silently; I knew I was set to be in quite a bit of trouble that night, and we hadn't even established what it was my sister's friends had told her. Even Sam, who's girlfriend was outgabing into his ear on speakerphone so he could listen-in on my over-loud phone conversation.

"...Told you what?" I asked as innocently as I could, having to ignore my so-called "buddies" as well as I could. Funny how they had your back except for when a woman had you by the balls. Then you were their mocking-chain.

"About you. About me. Why you were being so nice to me."

My cheeks flushed quite thoroughly. Suddenly, I was wishing I didn't keep the volume on my phone quite so high. Too bad it didn't occur to me at that moment to turn it down.

Anyways, there's me, heart beating out of control, thinking a million different things at once. She knew? She was calling to let me know? Calling to tell me she loved me? That she appreciated me? She knew?

Wait, she knew?

How could she know?

Unless she doesn't know, and she's playing with me.

"Come on, Beck. Don't be..."

"You don't have to pretend. They heard about it from your friend."

I didn't even have time to think about it. The most deadpan glare consumed my face and turned to meet the suddenly-preoccupied, big-mouthed Bill.

"What?" he asked. You could almost believe he didn't have anything to do with it.

"...Derrick? Are you there, sweety?"

"Pffffffffttt..." Dree and Bill exploded together. Sam, still a bit further down, was pfffting into his conversation with some girlfriend we've never heard of. I almost didn't notice, for Becky had never used such an endearing term for me before. I honestly thought she was incapable of it.

"I'm here," I reminded my suddenly-very-interesting sister, but my glare of doom still reminded Bill he was in hot water. "Who told you? And what did whoever it was say, anyway?"

"Okay, it wasn't technically your friend, but my best friend heard it from this guy, who said he hung out with your friend's uncle's step-son's..."

I lost track at about that point. Wait, did I say "lost track"? I meant, "lost interest". While she was blathering on, I completely forgot what she was talking about. Yet another reason I don't have a girlfriend. The girls in this town, they have a sickness. Phones are a part of it. Seriously; there's a ban on children under the age of eighteen owning phones. You legally have to have a high school diploma to purchase one; they have licenses with pictures and your address and everything.

"So it's not really his fault, and I didn't really mean to..."

"Wait, Beck, what on Earth are you talking about?"

"It's okay, D-Derrick. I know you... like me."

Back on my side of the phone, it was getting ridiculous. Bill and Dree were just at the point where it couldn't get any better. They just sat there, self-satisfied grins on their faces, each word just more money in the bank.

"Of course," I said before they could get even more annoying. "It's my job, you know? What kind of brother would I be if I didn't..."

"...And I've been thinking all week long. About you."

That shut them up. Now we were in dangerous territory. Suddenly I was glad I hadn't turned the phone down. Sampson casually hung up on his girlfriend to shamelessly listen-in at less distance. Hell, even I was hooked in, hanging on every word.

"...And I wanna do it."

"Umm... what?"

"...Will you be home tonight?"

"Umm... yeah. What'd you have in..."

"Great." Click.

And at last, empty silence. Dead air. Soon to be a ringing nothing that irritated my ears more than the nonsensical chatter of a hundred high-school girls in the middle of class time.

What the fuck just happened?

And let's not forget my mates. Bill, Dree, and Sam were all as much in a daze as I was. Their faces all confirmed that it wasn't my imaginary friend I was talking with on the phone to feel good about myself.

"Good game, blokes," Sam said after the moment of silence. "Drinks, yeah?"

"Finally joining the club," Bill said before following Sam off to the bar, a brisk pace away from the park, "good man."

Dree threw an arm over my shoulders to help return the feeling to my body, and with his help, I got moving again. "Just treat her good, alright?" he offered while I wobbled off after the two others. "This one's your sister."

**************

Ahh, Julie's: Savior of my life, purveyor of delicious beer. "I'll has another one, pls," I said to the cute bartendress.

"Isn't that about enough for you, guy?" the cute pair of eyebrows wrinkling in concern for me asked.

"Can't feel nothin' yet. Gimme 'nother one."

"His parents just died," Sam said with an assumed visage of absolute sorrow and a pat on my hand. Everyone else looked at him awkwardly, wondering what hat he'd just pulled that bullshit from, but it garnered me another beer. I raised it in his direction before choking on it.

Things were still so fuzzy. All my life, I had wond... for the past eight years or so of my life, I had wondered what it would be like to have sex. Then I had sex. With a total slut. Phenomenal in bed, but only the first two or three times. After that, it was the fall-back girl. Then, the girl who wasn't a complete pushover like the fall-back, someone like Roxanne in terms of kissing ability, but not in slutitude. Then, it was the search for the nice girl. Nowadays, and by that I mean the last few weeks, I only see my sister.

Sweet, delectable Becky. Fantasy after fantasy starring her tried to make their ways to the forefront of my imagination, only now they dared where they had never dared before with the sudden thought that maybe, someday soon even, that I would, in fact, be getting into the same bed as Becky, and not for comfort during thunderstorms.

With each delicious beer I consumed, the fantasies got more wild. I didn't dare think about one for more than a moment, refusing to get my hopes up; but in came another, even better. After my eighth beer, it was me and Becky lying naked on her bed with the black sheets, eyeing one-another.

"You gonna be alright, dude?" Bill asked.

"Fine," I slathered. No one said anything back.

Huh?

I pulled my droopy head up to see why I was being ignored. Bill wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Dree. "Wussamatter?" I asked in my prime of championship linguistics.

"Dree's thinking of dropping out the club," Sam said with something of a snigger.

"Out? Whachoo mean, out? Thur ain't no out; whachoo talkin' 'bout?" After all, once you were in, you were in. It's not like you can unbed your own sister. Who would want to in the first place?

Sam got a sock on the arm; Dree had to order a new beer. "I donno, man. Just haven't heard from her in a few days. Been meaning to ask Mom about it."

"Whfoo?"

"His sister, man," Bill offered most helpfully. "Ivy. He thinks she took off."

"You think she took off," Sam corrected. "That lucky prick's probably just getting a week-long three-way."

"Three? Week? Wuh?" The alcohol suddenly seemed feel like little more than a few beers as the conversation's logic-o-meeter unexpectedly took a turn for the basement.

"You know, his other sister's new boyfriend. You know how tight them girls are."

"Huh?"

"Ivy's been gone awhile," Dree himself explained. "Maybe out with Holly after all, but probably not, seeing as she's been pretty 'handy' with Troy for the last week or so. Holly's new boyfriend," he added before I could get even more lost.

"So Holly's busy; maybe she's with Kairi. You think about that?"

Dree contemplated that for a while by staring into his beer. "I donno. I don't see her much. In fact, haven't seen her in about..."

"...A week?"

"Shaddap, Slam."

***********

I was home before I knew what hit me. Mom and Assfuck were home, but I avoided. Upstairs, shower. No, dizzy. Best lay down a while. Maybe even a nap.

************

...And then, morning. Hangover. Pain. Water. Bright light. Fuck.

The shower didn't take any of the pain away. Neither did the jug of clear goodness from the tap kept in the bathroom for upstairs refreshment. At least by then I was thinking a little more clearly.

Oh, fuck. Becky.

"Beck?" I asked at her door. Quietly. Mom and Asshat were still around in an undisclosed location. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. If you wanna talk or anything..."

How silly do I feel, standing outside my sister's door like a whipped puppy, still in my towel and (very masculine) slippers? Sillier and sillier with each moment, that was for sure.

Why wasn't she answering?

Now I feel silly and shitty. What the fuck was I thinking, getting drunk on a night when my sister most especially asked for my attention? I don't know exactly what she wanted to get up to, but it was still completely rude of me. And here I'd just convinced her that I wasn't a complete jerk like the other men she had ever met.

"Becky? I'm sorry..."

"Sorry about what?"

Fuck off, dickshit. "Help you with something?" I asked a bit more politely to my stepfather.

He stood there obstinately, waiting for me to explain myself or else finish my business with Becky with him still standing there. But I did neither; I turned to face him and waited with my eyebrows up, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.

He had nothing more to add, so he took his shitty brown coffee and departed for other known systems. I don't break the peace in our house, but that doesn't mean I tolerate any shit from him when he feels like being a nosy bitch. Never have. Since he married my mother and moved in, he started making payments on the house, paying bills, buying groceries and shit, which meant he had a say on what went on under the roof, so I couldn't disrespect him to his face, no matter how much he deserved it.

I don't know what my mother ever saw in him, or sees in him still, but I made it more or less clear that he's to stay out of my business, seeing as I'm pretty much a tenant that just stays in my room whenever I'm home. Just because he knows I don't like him doesn't make it worth it for him to spend extra time getting his nose into my business.

Still, Becky said nothing. I tried the knock once more, and still nothing. Best go about my business and wait for her to be ready to talk.

***************8

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Fuck off with your 'so what'; tell us the goods."

"Excuse me, do you gentlemen mind waiting another hour for my lecture to be over?" the inept professor asked.

Do you people want a quick summation of the sequence of events, or should I just say I got on to class with my nosy mates?

"Yeah, was it good?" Bill asked over the interruption. Technically he wasn't in that class with me, but he and Dree saw fit to join Sam and myself to find out exactly what had happened the night before.

"She never came home last night," I said in my indoor voice.

That didn't quite shake them off, but at least they wouldn't find out that I had fallen asleep before I could find whether or not she was actually there or not.

Still, I thought that perhaps there was a ring of truth in my little white lie. What if she hadn't come home last night? What if she wasn't even there that morning? But what kind of sense would that make? Why would she go through all the trouble to... oh.

A set-up. Get me on the phone with all her friends nearby, get me to admit I had a crush on her, invite me into her bedroom that night; then have a good laugh about it, still with her friends; when I started asking in a very meek voice why I wasn't getting any of what I was pseudo-promised.

Women.

I felt like getting drunk again, so I led the charge back to Julie's before waiting for the pompous professor to finish his lecture Sam and I weren't paying attention to anyway. Jess was clearly flirting with me as she served me and the boys; but then, she flirted with all the guys at the bar. On the other hand, my boys and I are the only ones that don't tip on account of our parents pay. Or Sam's dad or Dree's mom, either way.

I tried to ignore the flirting as casual noise. I was too disgusted with women for the moment, but that only lasted for my fifth beer.

***********8

"Fucking hell, five times?" Jess asked with marked incredulity some five hours later.

"Comes with the territory, baby," I said in a rather unimpressed voice. I had always had an eye on her, but it only just occurred to her to have my way with her. Something about trying to heal the sickness by injecting my semen into it. Maybe I was reading a little too much into my human bio class.

Why the hell would my sister do that? I thought we were close. If not close, then at least amenable. Not far apart enough for her to run me through the ringer like that. If we really were close, then such a joke might have been a friendly precursor to something nice. Not necessarily sex-related, but something intimate.

When the hell was she going to get home?

"You want me to walk you back to the trolley?" I offered Jess after she recovered from my last plowing.

"Actually, is it cool here if I stay the night?"

"Uhh... I donno..." It's not like I've never had a girl overnight, but getting caught wasn't pretty. She'd have to wait until the old asshole left before she could even leave my bedroom safely.

"My parents aren't being too cool right now, but I'd understand if..."

"It's alright," I submitted. It wasn't my favorite plan, but a little morning gnocchi wasn't terrible. For a moment, I thought that being walked in on by my sister, who wondered why I had stood her up for the past two nights, only to find me in bed with another woman. Part of me didn't want to look like the asshole who would shut her down like that. The other part of me wanted her to get the idea out of her head that I was some pushover she could pull a fast one on.

I gave up the sappy side of myself long ago. Nearly fell for it with Becky, too.

If only I was sure which side of the field she was playing on.

**************

A week went by.

************8

The news that my sister was probably dead was too much to bear. I want so much to go to her, but she hasn't even been found yet. Only the tell-tale remnants of the car they were in and a long, long drop down. It would take a day to get recovery equipment down that cliff.

They would have sent an emergency helicopter, but with the sheer distance down a grade like that, there was no point. Even if they did, a helicopter wouldn't've been able to rip through a car crushed into a pancake from the fall.

I couldn't think properly. Everything I saw was mildewy fuzz. All I could hear was irritating buzzing. People that I passed by looked at me awkwardly as I stumbled down the street to my house from the trolley station.

The parents were home. I had to sneak upstairs to avoid them. They'd hear the news in their own time. All I wanted was to fall on my bed and die.

I started crying the moment my door shut behind me. I couldn't make it to the bed; I collapsed right there, bursting into tears. Everything we had been through, everything we were supposed to do together, it was all gone. Nothing but wasted memories.

Still, the human heart persists. I got up out my bed, threw open the window, and stared out into the sky. "I don't know who's listening," I said in my cracked voice with my dry tongue, but being that whoever I was trying to reach in my hysteria would mind, "but my sister can't be dead. Please, I don't want her to die. Please."

Forever passed. I think about two hours total. I wasn't done feeling sorry for myself, but I at least wanted to sprawl on the bed so I wouldn't be cramped on top of everything else.

"I never knew you cared."

I couldn't believe it, but my heart did when it jumped clear out my throat. There next to me, in my bed, was certainly a hot figure. She must've been been in there all night, listening to me cry at the window.

A few quick hands searched to find a naked body about the size of my sister, with hair about the same as my sister's.

"Is it really you?" Brilliant line, Derrick. Smooth as shit.

Lips pressed up against mine. Someone I've never kissed before, but my body knew to believe before I did: My sister was kissing me.

"Any more dumb questions?" she asked. No mistaking that sugary-sweet voice. Those supple, subtle curves my fingers recognized from the faintest touches of long ago.

"I'm so fucking glad to see you," I said with the biggest hug I could think of.

 "Don't hug me, kiss me," she corrected. I was only too happy to oblige.

Her lips were the sweetest heaven I could ever imagine. Soft, delicate, warm, and moist. No lipstick getting between us. Soon, her even more moist tongue licked at my lips with such slow, gentle swipes a few times before she pulled just far back enough that I could still feel her breath on my lips.

"What do you want to do to me?" she whispered.

"I want you," I hissed, aiming for another kiss, but she pushed me away.

"Tell me."

"I'm gonna screw you into next Sunday," I said with growing passion, throwing an arm over her to clutch her to me. I was foolish, falling into the same trap she had lain before, only now the trap had sprung. I didn't care. Rather a fault of mine. I must be sick.

"Yeah?" she purred. I got a kiss for my claim. "You're gonna screw me?"

"That's right, baby," I whispered. I nuzzled into her sweaty neck and concentrated on my hands memorizing her body. "First, I'm gonna lick your pussy."

"Mmm... then what?"

"Then I'm gonna take you by the hair and pull you to your knees."

"What for?" she asked with an air of innocence.

"So you have to suck me off," I insisted. I reached between her legs at last to find a short triangle of damp fur. Her thighs were soaked as well.

"I'd love to do that to you," she whispered back to me. "I'd love for you to make me. Keep going."

"When I've had enough, you're gonna suck your own tits for me," something I had been dying to see her do since they started to grow in, "and then you're gonna play with yourself until you come."

She bit my neck to keep her deep breathing from turning into moaning. Her hands were clutching at my back and shoulders; I could feel her shaking. Hopefully to keep herself from jumping the gun. "Uh huh?"

"Then comes the time I screw you," I said with more confidence than I'd ever felt in my life.

"You're really gonna fuck me?"

"I'm not stopping until you come at least three times on my dick."

"Are you gonna use a condom?"

Now there was a funny question. Why was she asking me? Oh, of course.

"No chance, baby. You're going to feel nothing but me inside you."

"Where are you going to come?"

"Inside you, baby." I could see what faint light there was from the window reflecting in her eyes; she was looking right at me. "All of it." I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I couldn't lie to her. That's exactly what was going to happen, and I knew she needed to hear me say it.

"I always make guys pull out," she goaded, but she did so with her teeth clamped around my earlobe, sending shudders down my spine that she was tickling. "Even though they all wear condoms with me."

"I'm not going to," I returned. I gazed into her face as I said it; my eyes were used to the darkness such that I could make out the outline of her beautiful blues. She stared back at me, waiting. I kissed her hard.

"Is your cock big?" she asked excitedly.

"It's perfect for you," I said out of nowhere. "It was made for you."

"I can't wait."

"For what?"

"To suck on it. To feel it inside me. Are you really gonna come in me?"

"You bet."

"I've never had that done before. What's it like?"

"It's the best part. You're gonna love it."

"Is that what you did with that blond slut at that party?"

What? Is that a yellow light? No, I don't think so. She was excited. "Sure is."

"What the hell did you do to her to make her so fuckin' noisy?"

"I didn't have to do a damn thing; she just wanted me. Why were you so quiet?"

"I didn't want that guy."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"Did you want me then? At the party?"

"...Yes."

"She invited you to stay."

"I never thought... would you really have...?"

"Do you want me to show you exactly how I make a woman scream in pleasure?"

"Fuck yeah."

I kissed her sweet lips; we were gonna have such an awesome time. "Go get dressed," I instructed, already falling into my new role.

"What for?" she asked innocently.

"So I can undress you properly."

"What should I wear?"

"Something... innocent."

I could almost hear her grin wickedly as she rolled on top of me. She kissed me hard on the lips, then once on the chest, and took off out of my bed and out of my room. I felt the ghosts of her fingers that trailed dangerously high on my thigh just as she stood up.

And I waited.

And waited.

And waited even more, beginning to get impatient. And then concerned.

What the hell was she doing? Playing with me again?

Wait, did she actually fake her own death?

What the hell is going on?

Nearly two hours later, there was a knock on my door. It opened straight after, and my sister slipped in. "Derrick? You still awake?" she whispered, and I breathed at last.

"Yeah, babe. Where've you been?"

She hobbled in to kneel at my bedside. She was dressed in her large, white shirt she had stolen from me a few years ago to wear to bed. I could only imagine what color panties she had stretched across her silky ass. "Lita had left a message. I think I may have fucked up."

"How?" The night was pretty much screwed for me; I no longer felt any mood from her. I sat up on the backboard and invited her to sit next to me.

"I guess you figured out I made up the thing where I was in a car crash?"

"The thought came to mind, but I was sure it was just a mistake."

"It sounded like a good idea at the time, and I didn't think anything bad would happen, but you know how Lita works at the police station?"

"No. Who's that?"

"She's a friend from high school. She made it look legit that I was in a crash, but no one else was supposed to know. It kinda leaked, so now she's got to cover it up, and I had to talk to some people. I think I may be in trouble."

"It was just a joke; they're not gonna throw you in jail," I said comfortingly, wrapping my arm around her.

"I'm sorry about tonight," she said sadly. "I'll let you fuck me later, alright? I'm just not in the mood anymore."

"It's fine. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I do. We just have to do it another night."

*****************

And another night came.

And another.

A third day, and a fourth.

"Beck? Anything wrong?" I asked her on the fifth day. Tuesday.

"No, why?"

"Umm... nothing."

"You?"

"Fine, just fine."

"Great. Love you, gotta run!"

***************8

"Why are you such a loser, D-rick?"

"Because he's a virgin."

"Fuck off, the both of you."

Another day, another round of beers. The boys were still convinced I was in line to be getting some from my own sister and thus officially joining the group, but they were likewise convinced I was doing something wrong to have not gotten any yet.

"You think she's gay?"

"She probably fell in love with some dude from out of town; that's why she was gone for a whole week."

"All goth chicks are gay."

"Would you idiots shut up?"

"Look, man," Bill said seriously, "you've got to make a move. You want to be stuck wishing the rest of your life?"

"Naw, dude. But what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Seduce her," Dree said sagely.

"Fuck you, and fuck you," Sam said helpfully to both Bill and Dree. "Now Derrick, my man, she wants you, but you're gonna have to play to your strengths if you wanna move this thing forward."

"Huh?"

"Your strengths, man. She came to you, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So, all you gotta do is be like however you were at that time. Remind her of what lit the fire under her sweet ass."

"Oh."

"I wasn't gonna do this, but otherwise you'd be hopeless."

I was ready to sock him one, but he pulled out a book.

"You know I can't read."

"It's a book about subversive suggestion. Study hard, and when you talk to her next, your words will be used to setting you both in the right direction. To bed, that is."

I socked him one anyways, but I took the book.

************

Fascinating, this book. I might have to give it a try.

***********

"Becky? Are you in there?"

I had mostly given up on expecting anything from my sister, what with her cooling off but not quite all the way down to her usual self. But with this book on my side, I thought there was hope at last.

She opened the door; she was wearing my old shirt again with neither striped socks nor long underwear to mar her beautiful legs or feet.

"You're beautiful," I said before she could greet me. As the book predicted, she blushed like an attention-craving schoolgirl. "May I come in?"

"Sure." She got out of my way so I could walk in. She shut the door behind her.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, as though it wasn't obvious enough. I was eyeing her body every which way I could, particularly those legs of hers.

"Been a while since we talked," I said softly.

"Busy, sorry," she apologized, though I could tell I was already getting to her. She was squirming where she stood, covering her crotch with her hands, and not knowing where to look. "What did you want to talk about?"

I closed the distance between us, so close that I could feel the heat from her black-tipped toes. She was forced to focus on me, on my eyes. Her adorable blue eyes looked up at me, causing her black hair to cascade over her delicate shoulders and reveal her tender, white neck.

I set my arms gently on her hips. "Kiss me," I demanded.

"Derrick, we can't just start doing shit right now," she said with some urgency. With other people in the house wide awake, she was right.

I chuckled confidently. "It's not what you think; you're just going to kiss me."

"Oh, alright." She stood up on those cute toes of hers, brought her adorable eyes closer to mine, and pecked me shortly with her incredible lips. "All better?"

"Come on, Becky," I mocked. "Just because we're not going to do anything doesn't mean you can't kiss me like we are going to."

"W... what do you mean?" she asked with some insecure uncertainty.

"I'll show you," I said, cupping her face so that we were sharing the same breath. "Here's my beautiful sister, her inch not a lips from mine."

"That's back-words," she giggled, but her breath was rapidly increasing.

"My sister that wants me to take her to bed; my sister that looks sexy, even when she's just wearing an old shirt of mine. She told me that she's going to make my dreams come true. I'm going to show her what a wise decision she's making in choosing me." I was running my fingers through her hair as I spoke to her. Switching between gazing into her eyes and looking at the rest of her perfect face.

"I just hope she knows what she's in for, coming to bed with me. I take a certain pride, taking care of a woman, and never have I wanted to prove myself to a woman so much as to this one. I'll devour her skin, make her moan, make her..."

She cut me off with her lips, leaping into my arms and knocking me back to her bed. Her tongue drilled its way into my mouth, demanding a dance with mine. Her body was dancing over my body as well. I could see down her shirt, all the way down to her little panties. Without both of them, I would wager her pussy would be dripping down onto my straining cock.

I pushed her to the side to kiss her more deeply, fantasizing about everything we would do together once we crossed that line. Like she said, tonight wasn't a safe night.

"Fuck me," she demanded, pulling her shirt up.

"Like you said, tonight's not a safe night."

"But Derrick...!"

"How do you feel right now?" I asked her with an intent gaze.

"Fucking hot, like my pussy is on fire, and I'm about to use it to set you on fire," she said hungrily.

"That's all? Your pussy?"

"My nipples, too. And my ears. And my nose. And my tongue. If we don't fuck, I'll break apart."

"I want you to remember this feeling," I said in a certain tone of voice with a certain stare into her face, both of which I'd learned from the book. "I want you to be able to feel this way whenever I'm around. I want you seeing me or hearing me to bring you close to insanity."

I kissed her several times between words, hardly believing my own luck or the passion she was feeling for me. "You'll want me," I said in my throaty tones and my hands hovering over the spots she wanted touched most. "You won't be able to control your desire for me." Her chest and hips were thrusting up to find my hands. I was having to control myself to set the pattern, or else I would risk screwing it up.

"I... can't... possibly... all... the... time..." She was slipping out of control fast. According to my reading, she'd fall unconscious from getting too hot. Still, she was at her most persuadable.

"You'll need to be at your most creative to keep me satisfied," I continued. "Outfits, dates, sneaking around behind Mom's back, flirting with me in public..." I stared straight into her eyes. "Finding other girls for me..."

She was gazing back at me, her eyelids nearly too heavy to see out of, but she still nodded vigorously in submission. "Yes, anything. Just touch me."

"Is that all you want?" I asked, continuing the torture.

"No, I want your big dick inside me."

"That's all?"

"I want your cum in me, too."

"I thought you didn't do that."

"I'm going to with you."

"Are you thinking about it?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Her legs spread, her hands slithering along her naked thighs, closer to her panties.

"How could I?"

"You have to," she insisted, almost hyperventilating from her arousal.

"But once I strip you naked..." She gasped, and a little moan slipped out. "...All I'll want to do is lick your sweet little pussy."

She nodded in agreement. "Mine's the best."

"Sweet?"

"The sweetest."

"You happen to know?"

She nodded again.

"So you've tasted other pussies?"

She n... no, she shook her head.

"You haven't?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Never been with a woman? Never kissed one?"

Nothing.

"It would please me if you did."

Her heavy eyes lit up.

"Do you want to please me?"

She nodded most vigorously.

"You would make love to a woman just for me?"

She was keeping her eyes open somehow, despite the overwhelming desire to pass out. Her nod was slow; her hand slid down my chest in affection.

"Even that little slut I was with at the party?"

"...Yes..."

"You'd do everything with her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said more confidently.

"Were you jealous of her?"

"Yes," she insisted.

"Did you want her, too? At the time?"

"Yes."

"You're going to have her. And any other girl who I think is good enough for you."

"Thank you, Derrick." She was no longer begging for contact; she was simply gone. Only awake in that her eyes were open.

"Your body belongs to me, now."

"My body is yours," she affirmed.

"You will come when I tell you to."

"Yes, please."

"You will think first of my pleasure. Everything you do will be towards making me happy."

"Yes, Derrick."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Now sleep."

****************

"What? Oh, hi, Derrick. I'm sorry about last night. Did I fall asleep or something?"

"I love you, Becky," I said instead. "Last night was amazing."

I kissed her firmly, inciting the old feelings from the night before. In no time, she was hot as a tea kettle.

"Tonight, yeah? I want you to fuck me tonight," she cooed. "Will you?"

"There's a big party coming up soon," I suggested. "Maybe we should do it there? Get in the mood, watching others? Does that sound good?"

"Oh Derrick, that'd be perfect. Will you do something for me?"

"Anything, baby."

"Will you lick my nipples for me?"

"Not now; not until it's time for me to claim your body," I said in my commanding tone of voice. She was taking it in stride, just like she was supposed to. "Now go take a shower so I can fantasize about you being naked. Afterwords, make me some breakfast and bring it to me here."

"Yes, Derrick," she affirmed lovingly.

************

So, the big party comes. Everybody gets dressed: Men in slacks and shiny shoes, women in spring dresses and high heels. It's like practice for the Senior Ball. The official rule is that if you're going, you can ask anyone you want, anyone in the world, and it's very impolite manners to refuse. Couples would still go together, but a lot of the guys from college would wind up taking high school girls instead of their own girlfriends.

Those girlfriends would, in turn take either a different guy or girl for their own date. It was a dance where you could invite the person you wanted to take, not the person you were supposed to take. No one dared throw it in your face the morning after because everyone was equally guilty for even being there.

It was still a dance, though. Actually, it was an actual event hosted by the Garden itself, held at Bombshell Manor, one of the biggest houses in town. It was famous for being the house of the two most famous cheerleaders in Cameron High history. Rumor has it the founder of the Garden was born there.

We stepped through the giant double-front doors to find the place was already bumping. The foyer was completely devoid of any furniture, and the carpet had been rolled up so no one tripped their heels or spilled their drinks. I secured a pair of champagne flutes and toasted the evening to my lovely companion.

"Hey, Der. Who's your date?" asked an old friend from high school.

"I'm Elizabeth," Becky said for herself, extending her hand. As expected, no one recognized her once she swapped her usual dark makeup for something in a more "barely there" motif with light, spring colors. She wore a simple dinner gown of soft blue-green and matching heels, and her hair was straightened to decorate her bare shoulders.

"I only hope you're sharing, that's all I can say," the guy said, kissing Becky's hand before disappearing into the party.

"You wanna go out onto the back lawn?" I asked her. The front lawn was covered with people as it was, but the back yard was huge. We had to go through the pool room to get there, and the pool was huge. And inside. Insane.

There was a live band playing out back, and couples were dancing the night away all over and everywhere between there and the front hall, and on the front lawn as well. Becky and I had already left our shoes with the custodian in the foyer, since between the padded room, the pool room, and the kitchen, there wasn't really proper surface for dress shoes, especially out in the grass. We joined hands and joined the crowd.

"Hey, man!" several people shouted upon recognizing me. Everyone wanted to know who my date was, but all they ever got out of either of us was "Elizabeth". Throughout high school, no one had ever known her real name.

"Hey, man," interrupted a party-goer. "You gonna hog her all night, or you gonna share?"

"I love you, Becky," I whispered down to her.

"I love you, Derrick," she whispered back up, and I kissed her. Then I handed her over.

I found myself some stone seating to cool my dogs.

"I saw that," Bill said next to me.

"How's your night going?"

"Fucking Sadie tossing her shit around again," he grumped.

"So tap that one more time."

"You kidding? She'd kill me if she even thought anyone knew; you saw what happened to Sam. Lucky for him Tiff were too dense to say what she was talking about at the time."

"Psh, yeah. You seen him around?"

"Yeah, he brought a few young things with him. You?"

"Just the one I came in with."

"Who is she?"

"That's Becky, stupid."

He snorted into his beer. "What? Her?"

"In the nubile flesh."

"Dude, you got to let me dance with her."

"Go for it. I'll go see what Sadie's doing."

"Deal."

Sadie was easy enough to find. Her dress looked like it was a halter like Becky's, but it was actually a string-tied top and separate sarong bottom, good for pool parties. Becky and I had also come prepared for swimming, but Sadie had already cast aside her halter top.

 Or had she? The two guys she was dancing with probably couldn't resist the temptation of pulling the little strings to make her top fall away. One of them was kissing her neck and grinding into her from behind while the one in front was kissing her lips.

The song ended, and I stepped in. "Mind if I cut in?" I asked of them.

"My my, little Derrick," she mused when she saw me. She bid the other two away with a kiss each before sauntering up to me, breasts and hips swaying. "Does mommy know you're out?" Standard behavior for sisters of buddies. I was over it.

"Just one dance," I said, holding my hand out.

She smirked at me. For an eighteen-year-old, she handled herself better than people twice her age. Had them eating out of her hand. Speaking of hands, she took mine, which I kissed most graciously. I pulled her into my embrace, and we began to move with the music, albeit slowly.

Unlike her previous partners, my hands stayed put and my eyes stayed locked on hers. She was too headstrong to feel uncomfortable; in fact, I think she liked it. "So. Who're you here with?" she challenged.

"Her," I said, pointing to the black-haired girl that was quickly drawing a crowd with her bare feet boogying to the music. "You?"

"I forgot," she said whimsically. My face was devoid of reaction. "Although... it seems to me that right now, I'm here with you."

"I could get used to that."

"Mmm... me too."

We spent the whole song showing off what good dancers we were. That wasn't saying much; we were both more club dancers, but neither was any better, and we were rather enjoying ourselves. Probably more than with anyone else we'd ever danced with, being that since the two of us were locked behind the friend zone, there wasn't any pressure.

We both saw Sadie's brother Bill aiming for my sister Becky, but he never made it through the tight circle that had built up around her, making the two of us burst into laughter. When the song ended, we stuck together, and for a pleasant surprise, Becky came to find me.

"Who's this?" she asked when she saw me with Sadie practically in my lap.

"I'm Honey-Bee," Sadie answered.

"Cheerleader, huh?" Becky answered. The two shook hands, though it was more a warm holding designed to boil man's blood. "I'm Elizabeth."

"Really," Sadie purred. "Do you go to Cameron High?"

"Yeah." The music began again. "Come on."

Becky pulled Sadie away from me, leaving me to return for something more stimulating than champagne. There was Bill again.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually.

He fumed silently. "I saw you getting rather friendly with my sister," he noted rather than be subjected to my goading.

"Yeah. Now look who's getting friendly."

He peeped over to the vast collection of bodies. His sister was, as always, easy to find. She was locked at the hands with my sister still, both of them enjoying the music. "If you'll excuse me, I've got more work to do. Why don't you see if Sally's up and about? Seeing as it's 'Come On Whom You Usually Don't' night." Even your boy's sister wasn't off-limits tonight. Even your own sister.

I made my way through the thick crowd, rubbing my swelling manship against girl's asses every two seconds. Most of them would reach behind themselves without looking to get a feel for what was digging into their dresses. I found the two girls I was looking for, but I held back for a minute when the music changed to something slow. Without hesitating, Sadie threw her arms around my sister's shoulders to hold her close; Becky in turn wrapped her own arms around Sadie's waist, her hands resting on her bare back.

When the minute was up, I approached. Their eyes were closed during their silent spin, so I was able to sneak up behind Sadie undetected and unrecognized. She backed into me indiscriminately as I set my hands on my sister's hips. Becky opened her eyes then, and upon seeing me, kissed me over Sadie's shoulder.

We ground our hips together as though Sadie wasn't between us; Sadie herself freed her hands to clutch our heads while we kissed. My own hands slid from Becky's waist to Sadie's, right to the knot on her sarong, which I made quick work of. When the cloth fell to the grass, I couldn't help but spread her cheeks, clad only in a thin white thong, and rub my erection up and down her ill-disguised cleft.

She moaned and tilted her ass up to better receive me. "Oh, hey, Derrick," she said upon opening her eyes. She took over my kiss with my sister, leaving me free for getting into other trouble. Becky, as soon as Sadie's sarong fell away, slid her hands down Sadie's back to cup her bottom, and she felt my hardness upon the tanned ass. She was then the one to spread the girl's cheeks so I could push deeper between them.

My hands went back to Becky's hips, but they were soon down to her ass, and I pulled her tight against Sadie, and therefore Sadie's ass against my cock. Then I felt along Becky's bare back and then her neck. This was my first real feel of her naked skin despite my two nights in a bed with her. They had stopped kissing by then, preferring to focus on what they were doing to tease one-another with their hands.

They parted about half a foot so they could take in each other's bodies. Becky in her backless dress and no underwear, Sadie in nothing but underwear. Both were without their shoes. I took the opportunity to slide my hands to Becky's front and into the sides of her dress to feel her breasts for the first time.

They were heavy, feeling much bigger than I ever made them out to be. It was obvious Becky had hidden her treasures well throughout the years. My warm hands made bumps on her breasts, and her nipples turned into hard points under my palms.

I pulled my hands out and made for Sadie's waterproof bra; her breasts were obviously larger, and holding them with her back to me was much more comfortable. I decided to let my hands rest joined together at her waist, dipping dangerously down to her thong from the front.

As soon as my hands came away from Becky's breasts, Sadie took up interest and began to flick her pointing nipples with a fingertip. Becky moaned, urging Sadie to lean right over and bite one of my sister's nipples. With Sadie bent over, Becky and I had a moment. "I wanna fuck her," I saw her lips say quietly. I answered her by brushing her lips faintly with mine. Oh how glad I was to have made her wait.

She moaned then; I saw Sadie had slipped her hand down to rub Becky's pussy through her dress. She lifted her head back up, and Becky devoured her lips and clutched her breasts.

Sadie's hand stayed where it was. When Becky had her fill of our new toy's tits, she clutched my ass and pulled it tight, making my erection drill head first into Sadie from behind. With their bodies pressed close together again, my hands were out of sight to slip under Sadie's panties to feel her wet mound.

The song ended, and hands fell to sides. There were vultures circling, trying to get in on the action. But another song started up, and the two girls were circling around me. Becky ended in front of me with Sadie behind. They danced raunchy to the raunchy music, squeezing me between their thinly-clad bodies. Becky's back was to me so she could get a taste of what Sadie had been having; the rough material of her dress didn't feel quite so good as Sadie's near-bare ass, but knowing it was my sister craving my dick made it feel just fine.

Sadie's tits on my back felt just as good. Becky turned around to feel a bit of me from the front, and in the passion of feeling my cock grind against her pussy, she pulled at Sadie's head and kissed her over my shoulder. With a few more minutes gone by, the two circled around me again, landing in the opposite positions once they parked so we could go through the whole thing again. Despite everything I felt for Becky, feeling Sadie's obvious experience when she rubbed her thong-glad pussy over the bulge in my pants made me want her desperately.

The band closed up shop for the five minutes, which would give us time to rest. We'd probably seek other dance partners to make the most of the night.

"A couple of us are going to nab a room upstairs," I said to Sadie. Becky pulled herself under my arm after the music ended, leaving Sadie in her skivvies to stand alone. Not to ditch her, but to gawk at her body. "You think maybe you wanna join us?"

"Mmm... I donno. Are you gonna be there?" she asked of my sister.

Becky looked up at me, then again at Sadie's body. "Definitely."

"Then I'll be there. I think I should catch a swim, unless you wanna help me find my clothes?"

"You enjoy yourself."

"Come find me when you head up, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Becky answered.

We both watched her leave. With most of the couples outside swarming the bar, the two discarded pieces of Sadie's dress were easy to find. She walked casually past them both.

"You feel like hanging out on the pool deck?" I asked my sister while watching the younger girl's ass sway.

"Yeah."

We both lazed in chaises at poolside, sipping sangria and watching the sharks chasing the dolphins. Some were in swimming suits like Sadie, others had grabbed undershorts and undershirts from boys to bathe in. A few girls had hiked up their dresses to let their bare legs dangle in the water while they socialized with the swimmers and the loungers.

There were a few highlights to be seen there. Since half the senior class of Cameron High seemed to have shown up, there was plenty to see. The girl's and boy's swim and water polo teams (usually the same people) were there, making the most noise. Several cheerleaders like Sadie were there; they were easy to spot, usually having the most extreme waist-to-hip ratio and or the largest breasts.

The swim-team girls, liberal in the private party, had donned the tiniest swimsuits ever. Not even the slutty cheerleaders could keep up with the experienced dressing of the swimmers nor the true submerged form of flirtation. The boys were mostly in swim trunks except for those that actually swam for the school.

There were repeated girly catcalls for the boys in their small red spandex suits, more so than for the girls, at least as far as their outfits were concerned. The real cheering began after the wrestling got under way.

The captain of the cheerleading squad had gotten into a scuffle with the girl's water polo captain. The two girls were flopping about in the shallow end, going for one-another's tops. It went on just long enough to start getting some attention before the cheerleader's string bikini was easily untied, leaving her topless and her opponent grinning.

She fumed at the other girl, grabbed her by her short brown hair, and kissed her hard. While she had her distracted, she slid her fingers under the tight spandex of the near-non-existent top and pulled it over her head so that their breasts could mesh.

Becky and I decided we'd had enough, but only after the two girls slipped out of the water, topless, and disappeared, leaving their boyfriends behind. We found Sadie and chucked ice cubes at her until we got her attention.

As the three of us left the pool deck together, we were cut off by Sadie's brother.

"Dude," Bill said, seeing my sister on my left and his sister on my right, the two girls' hands laced together behind me.

"Yup?"

He pulled me aside, leaving the girls to giggle together.

"That's my sister, yo."

"And?"

"...It's my sister. She's not like the rest. More important, I still gotta live with her."

"Dude, it's totally cool. I probly wasn't even gonna do anything with her, but now you mention it..."

"Hey, guys!" I shouted at our sisters. They came padding over, hand in hand.

"Elizabeth," I said to Becky, "meet Bill. I have but three close friends, and he's one of them. He's also too lazy to hunt his own scratch, and you two ladies together would probably kill me."

Becky grinned wickedly as Bill took her hand. Even he didn't recognize her in her beautiful dress.

"Hey, Honey-Butt," Bill said to his sister.

"You too, Prick-Dick," she answered.

"That's not what you said last month," he said coolly.

"I was too drunk to speak properly, dimpshint."

Their banter brought us to the foot of the grand staircase in the front hall. We had recovered our shoes; we men wore shoes that worked well enough without socks. "Sockless Parties," these gatherings were called on account of the pool. A low-class name for an other-wise dignified orgy in disguise. As we made our way up the stairs, we saw Sampson just disappearing into a room.

"Hey, mes amigos!" he shouted down just in time. "Come on up; I got a free room!"

The four of us hustled upstairs. "So, who'd old Sam find to entertain, or was he planning on jerking off in private?" Bill started when we got inside, but... Hello, beautiful. Didn't expect to see you in here."

There was Salamandy. Son of a bitch. We all thought she hated her brother, but she had gone upstairs with him, just the two of them.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" she said when she saw Bill and I come in with our two sisters. "Honey, isn't that your brother?"

"No," she said, looking at me.

"Not him, the other one."

"Oh, him? Yeah. Isn't that your brother?" Sadie returned, notating Sam.

"I guess it is. Were you gonna...?"

"Why? Weren't you?"

"Figured I'd give it a try; it's a party, after all. You?"

"One more time couldn't hurt."

"What's with the little princess?" Sally then asked after Becky, who was beaming in her dress and heels. Sally herself wore a simple black bellyless tube top and a long, black skirt with no slit.

"That's Elizabeth," Sadie said. "D-boy's date."

"What in fuck?" Sam laughed. "Sisters only, dude. Didn't you hear?"

"Actually," Becky said, turning to look at me, "I am his sister." She kissed me on the spot, making everyone's jaws drop.

"Well, are we gonna do this, or stand around staring?" Sally asked, unzipping her skirt.

"Let's have the boys volunteer to get us some drinks while we get to know each other," suggested Sadie, who took my sister from me and went to help Sally with her dress. A look and an eyebrow from both girls let the three of us know we had better get the fuck out of there pretty quick.

"Women," Sam muttered on our way down the stairs.

At the bar, we ran into Dree.

"Bad luck, mate?" Bill asked.

"All three of them are gone," he pouted.

"Come on, let's get you laid. We're doing a special. Group discount."

When we collected what we needed, half-carrying Dree in tow, we slipped back upstairs and into the bedroom. Our three girls were in a pile on the huge bed, none of them with a stitch of clothes on, though they were still all wearing their heels. My eyebrow started to twitch.

"Poor Dree's sisters bugged out on him," Sam mocked. He shoved the dejected lad towards the bed, and immediately the three girls crowded him with affection.

"You just wait right there, pretty boy," Sally said with cheer. "No cousin of mine is going to be left wanting." She pulled on the nearest clothes item she could find, which happened to be my sister's dress. Her breasts tried to bulge out the sides, but it was loose around the hips. In all, I thought she looked ravishing in it. Next to her, my naked sister gave me a little wave.

Sally was gone and back in seconds. "May I introduce Cindy," she pulled in a beautiful blond wearing a square-lined green dress, "and Sara?" What was left of our jaws hit the floor. Sara had white silk criss-crossing her breasts, a little out of character for the simple dance, but no one was about to complain. Me, least of all.

"They're not his sisters, either," Sam jeered.

"They're mine," Sally interjected, "and they're his cousins, too, since his sisters went and dumped him."

Enough chatter. I got up to introduce myself to the twins, one of whom grabbed me and kissed me. The two of us never made it to the bed. Sally and Cindy did, but they made short work of Dree between the two of them. My dear sister seemed happy with Bill for the moment, and Sam was left with Sadie.

"I thought you didn't partake," I said to Sara after making her come on my cock for the fifth time. She was dry and she wasn't a moaner, but that didn't mean she wasn't any good. Hell, she was very good. Color me surprised.

"Just because I don't get drunk at parties and do it with whomever like some people," she jabbed, but I honestly don't know at whom. Every one of us was guilty except her twin sister, who was getting a taste of Dree's talents while Sally urged him on.

Bill finished with my sister, who moved on to Sam. Sadie didn't want to share, so she came to me, kicking Sara away. "Call me," Sara said on her way out.

We went a few rounds; we had plenty of time. We all watched Sadie with Bill, which was every bit the riot we expected. Sadie, being Sadie, hates not having everyone's attention. Sally seemed to own the room that night, which gave Sadie something to reach for, and she reached for it by bouncing on top of her brother like a madwoman.

Sally gave Sam a turn, but just once, and the twins wouldn't touch him at all, also being his sisters. Everyone wanted to see me and Becky take a turn, but I shoved her at Sadie, since I'd had a hankering for the sight all night. Once they were done, Becky laid down on the floor with me. Everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch.

"Another day, okay?" she whispered to me. "I'm not gonna make you my third or fourth for a night; I want it to be special. Is that alright?"

"Sure, baby," I whispered back. Then to our audience, I gave a little shake of my head. They all sighed their sorrow, but they were distracted with trying to get the three sisters together. It didn't work, but Sara and Cindy made a sandwich out of Sadie, and Sally let Bill and Dree both take care of her at once. I was about done for the night, but Becky, being gracious, went to give Sam more service since she was half the population that would give him any access that night.