Chapter 6

I was afraid to meet Lynn’s eyes the next morning. Dale was long gone by the time I got up and the kids had gone to school. Rosita bustled about the kitchen and I could see Manuel moving about in the backyard as I approached the large, curving granite counter where Lynn sat, drinking her coffee and reading the morning paper.

“Sleep well?” she asked.

“Yeah, like a log from the moment my head hit the pillow,” I lied.

Lynn smiled as she looked up. “Me too,” she said. “Rosita left you an omelet,” Lynn waved at a covered pan on the stove.

I retrieved the omelet, poured myself a coffee, and pushed onto a stool two down from Lynn’s near the rounded end of the granite counter. As I ate, I noticed that Lynn drank hers black like me but my attention soon wandered to my sister’s body which I had strained so intensely to see last night. She was wearing a simple pale orange dress with a daring neckline that narrowed as it wrapped around her neck but billowed loosely over her partially exposed breasts. The dress didn’t hug her body but it didn’t have to. I knew it was there and it was stunning.

As my eyes moved over her breasts and down her legs, I wondered why Lynn had done that last night. I was sure she knew I was watching. She knew I’d always had a crush on her. Though she was only a few minutes older than me, she had always been the ‘older’ sister. That was especially true in high school when the older boys always took the best looking girls and we in turn took the best ones from the year or two behind us. Lynn and her friends weren’t shy about letting the guys in our grade know what we couldn’t have and that extended to the homefront when Lynn sometimes took perverse pleasure in displaying her wares. But we were adults now. Why was Lynn playing with me? Even the outfit she was wearing now was a provocation.

“You’re dressed a little summery,” I said.

Lynn looked up and flashed a smile. “Well, I thought you might take me for a drive and I wanted to look like a Camaro girl.” She pushed one hand down in front of her and stretched the other above and behind her head, arching her back and pushing her chest forward, giggling.

I looked away. “I thought you’d be tired of driving by now.”

“Nope,” Lynn said. “I want you to take me away for the day.”

“So we can talk?” I asked, suspiciously.

“Not unless you want to,” Lynn countered. She stretched her hand out to grab mine just as I was about to lift the fork to my mouth. “Let’s drive around, just the two of us.”

She didn’t bat her eyes but she may as well have.

So we ended up driving up the coast. We drove for a couple of hours before turning inland. I didn’t know you could find anywhere in Florida without people but Lynn found a small park with only a few people wandering around. We sat down in the grass and ate the lunch Rosita had packed for us. It was very pleasant. When we were finished, Lynn took our empty juice containers and sandwich wrappings to the garbage containers. I watched her all the way there and back.

Lynn lifted her arms and pushed her hair up on the way back, like she’d done when she returned from the pool the night before. My cock immediately began to swell and the memory of losing my load over the balcony, and the soft click of the sliding door below, rushed into my head, making me blush. In my confusion, I thought for an instant that it was Mom walking so sexily back to me, smiling wantonly, her blue eyes glistening in the sun, bracketed by a head full of dark, brown, messy hair. I blinked and stared. No, it was Lynn, her pale reddish hair surrounding her lightly freckled face and green eyes. But she looked no less sexy, and her smile didn’t look like one meant for a brother.

She dropped onto the grass beside me but instead of sitting down, she fell onto her stomach. Strange I hadn’t noticed until then that Lynn’s tanned back was almost completely bare. To make things worse, the hem of the dress had fallen high on Lynn’s thighs as she had thrown herself down.

“Could you tickle my back like Mom used to?” she asked.

How could I refuse? I trailed my shaking fingers over my sister’s skin, tentatively at first, then with more confidence, and finally with a lighter, almost teasing touch. Stop it, I scolded myself. You promised. But I couldn’t help myself. I tickled Lynn’s back like no mother ever would. I caressed her skin and visited every inch of it that I could reach, running my fingertips around her shoulder blades and down along her sides, and even dipping underneath the edge of the dress a little. I returned often to the places where Lynn twitched and emitted minute sounds of pleasure.

At one point, I changed hands and for a while even used both. Changing back to one hand again, I noticed that several strands of dried grass had spilled over the back of Lynn’s legs and gently brushed them away. Lynn lifted her head and smiled sleepily at me, then dropped it onto her arms with a pleased sigh.

“That feels wonderful,” she murmured. “We like that.”

Encouraged, I began caressing the back of her legs from the hem of the dress just inches below her bottom to her knees and back. I knew I shouldn’t be doing this but rather than stopping I imbued my strokes with extra attention and was pleased when Lynn turned her toes inward which shifted her legs apart to enable the new deportment of her feet. She likes it, so I’ll just do this for a while and then we’ll go home and I’ll leave tomorrow.

Twenty minutes later, I thought, She’s so much like Mom. How can I leave her when she seems so lonely? Lynn looked like she was sleeping. She hadn’t made a move or a sound for at least five minutes, maybe even ten. That’s when my fingers first strayed under her skirt. Lynn twitched and I froze. I got ready to yank my hand away but Lynn moved her feet apart a little more and continued breathing normally. I started tickling her legs again but moved my hand downward toward her knees. I stayed down there for the next few minutes but soon began straying higher, all the while admonishing myself for doing so. Eventually, I pushed my fingers under her dress. There was no reaction, not even a twitch.

For Christ’s sake, stop it! You promised Mom.

I never had listened to anyone much, so why should I listen to myself? I stroked up and down Lynn’s thighs, along the back and up the tender insides. At the end of each stroke, I ventured higher and let my fingernails scratch more slowly near the apex before returning to her knees. I loved touching her forbidden skin. The very thought of my hand’s presence under her skirt was a tremendous turn on, a feeling I hadn’t experienced since Mom had passed away.

Oh, Mom. Did you really mean I couldn’t touch Lynn forever? You know she did, I answered myself angrily.

If she was awake, I wondered, would Lynn like what I was doing? Did her husband do this anymore? Had he ever? I felt sorry for my sister. She needed someone to truly love her, someone who always had, who always would. If I wasn’t her brother, wouldn’t she want a man to spoil her like this? Would she want it anyway? My cock stiffened painfully in my shorts at the thought.

My fingers bumped against Lynn’s panties. I stopped, panicked, my hand frozen between her upper thighs, knuckles still grazing her panties. Lynn’s thighs twitched, then closed on my hand. I stared at her face. Lynn had sucked in a long breath and stopped breathing. Her legs loosened around my hand, quivered, closed, then opened again. Lynn exhaled and began breathing regularly again, shallow, but steady.

I pulled my hand back out of danger and held it still. Lynn continued to breathe regularly, eyes closed, and relaxed. I pushed my hand forward, fingers stretching out to tickle the inner sides of both thighs. Lynn ‘slept’ on. My hand moved back and forth, resuming its former path. The crisis was over. I would just do this for a few more minutes and then stop as if nothing had ever happened.

But then I did it again. I curled my fingers into a ball and pushed my hand up until it pressed against Lynn’s panties. Her thighs immediately closed over my fist, clutching and releasing rapidly, three or four times. I pulled my hand back and let my fingers deploy, scratching down the inner sides of her thighs, relishing in their trembles, ecstatic in their appreciation of my loving touch.

I pulled my hand away and let it rest on the back of Lynn’s left knee. Her ass tensed underneath the dress and strained upward. I slid my hand forward a couple of inches, producing the same response. I looked around the small park. The few elderly people present were far away, sitting on benches and gazing at the gardens. I moved forward, trying to keep my fingers away from the sides of Lynn’s thighs but I failed several times, barely grazing her skin. Her legs quivered. In anticipation? Did my sister know what I was doing, at some level. I scrutinized her face. She looked like she’d been sleeping for hours.

I closed my hand into a fist and pushed my arm under Lynn’s dress, all the way, until my knuckles thudded into the underside of her panties. Immediately, Lynn’s thighs clutched my fist in a spastic series of rapid hugs varying in tempo and duration. Courageously, or foolishly, I kept my hand in place, pushing it more firmly against my sister’s panties. The quivering clutches intensified and I moved my fist up and down, rubbing my knuckles over Lynn’s panties, and the excited pussy underneath.

Suddenly, her legs went rigid and her thighs literally vibrated around my hand, causing her whole body to shake. It continued for at least a minute but I held my ground until the tremors subsided and Lynn was still. As her legs relaxed, I withdrew my hand, pulling it up to my face and breathing in her scent, gazing at the blue-hairs admiring their own flowers from the benches. Gently, I tugged Lynn’s dress down and waited for her to ‘wake up’. I waited and waited but Lynn didn’t give any sign of waking. She really must have been asleep. I patted her on the bum and, with some difficulty, stopped myself from clutching her cheeks.

“Lynn, wake up. We should go.”

I repeated myself but didn’t pat her ass again. I didn’t trust myself not to grab a handful. Instead, I grasped her ankle and gently shook her leg until Lynn lifted her head and groggily looked back at me.

“Did you let me fall asleep?” she asked.

“I did,” I said. “Guilty as charged. You left me all alone with nothing to do but commune with nature and the raisins over there,” I waved at the bench and laughed.

“Be nice,” Lynn laughed, getting up onto her hands and knees.

I stood and reached down to give her a hand up, thinking about how great it would be to just get down behind her. I wiped the image from my mind with some difficulty.

“Come on,” I said. “We should get going.”

Lynn was in an excellent mood that night at dinner. The kids picked up on it and the banter around the table was considerably more active than the night before. Even Dale kicked in with an enthusiasm I hadn’t noted in him before. After dessert, Dale and I were left alone. Lynn had gone to the kitchen to discuss something with Rosita and the kids had performed their normal disappearing act, though later than usual. Dale had poured us each a glass of twenty-year-old port.

“I hope you’ll stay with us for a while,” Dale said after taking his first sip. “Lynn’s been a little depressed since your mother passed away but she’s like her old self with you here.”

Dale held his glass toward me before taking another drink.

“I’m glad to hear that, Dale, but I’m not sure how long I can stay.”

“You’ll stay at least until the estate is settled, won’t you? You can use the cottage if you don’t want to stay in the house, I mean, if you need your own space. Manuel and Rosita don’t live there anymore. We only use it for guests.”

“That’s kind of you but no, I’m fine in the house. I don’t know how long I’ll be staying. I’m feeling a little restless myself.”

“All the more reason for you and Lynn to be together,” Dale said, pressing his point.

Our heads turned as Lynn’s footsteps sounded in the hallway coming from the kitchen. Dale looked back at me and spoke in a confidential tone.

“Well, think about it anyway. I’d really appreciate it and I’m sure Lynn would too.”

“I will,” I said as Lynn rejoined us.

That night, I struggled with what I had done in the park. Lynn had had an orgasm. Clearly, something was lacking in her life but I was thankful she hadn’t woken up. Getting felt up by her brother, someone she should be able to trust more than almost anyone else, wasn’t something she needed to deal with. I hammered my fist into my thigh to emphasize my anger for endangering our relationship and my resolve not to let it happen again. Just because I wanted it didn’t mean she did too and I needed to stop deluding myself. It was hard, but I stayed away from the balcony that night, not that Lynn would have been there but I stayed away nonetheless.

It was the weekend. I hung around with kids and took them out for the day. It was a beautiful day and they were excited to go for a drive in the Camaro but soon tired of it. We ended up going to a matinee of all things. That night, we all played Monopoly. Even Dale played for a while but he was quickly eliminated.

After the kids went to bed, I sat in the living room and read a book. Well, I stared at the fireplace mostly, but I had a book with me. Dale was working in his office working under the light of a single, jade lamp. Lynn had gone upstairs with the children but soon joined me. Instead of sitting on her regular couch, she sat down beside me with a crossword puzzle book.

“I thought you hated crosswords,” I said.

Lynn didn’t look away from her puzzle when she answered. “I did but I started doing them after Mom went and I’ve been doing them ever since. I kind of like doing them now.”

I left her to it, picking up my book and trying to read in earnest but my attention was soon distracted by Lynn’s bare feet next to me on the small couch. Loveseats, I guess they were actually called. Lynn had tucked her feet up on the couch beside her and was leaning over the arm where the puzzle book rested while she filled it in. I couldn’t help glancing at her legs. The sight of them reminded me of the incident in the park and I was about to get up to remove myself from temptation when Lynn stretched her feet out and wiggled her toes under my thigh.

“Are you cold?” I asked. “I can get you a blanket.”

“No,” Lynn replied.

“No, you don’t want a blanket?”

“No.”

“Do you want me to turn up the fireplace?”

I started to get up but Lynn stretched her hand out and pressed on my leg, pushing me back down.

“Stay,” she said.

I settled back into the couch but I was anything but relaxed. The warmth of Lynn’s feet transferred to my flesh. It was more excitement than heat. I kept my face in my book, afraid to look at her legs or her hip and the curve of the tight brown tweed skirt she wore. But I was weak and my eyes soon roamed over her bare lower legs and onto her skirt and even up to the bulge in the side of her textured white blouse. I turned, guiltily, and looked across the floor into Dale’s office. He was looking at me and smiled when my eyes met his. I smiled back and quickly looked away, at the fireplace and then at my book and, a moment later, at my sister’s feet. She wiggled her toes as if in appreciation.