I'd managed to snag a pretty good life. Even with a college degree, all I really wanted to do was paint my crazy paintings. Which of course paid nothing. But then I'd stumbled into this situation where I was making really good money. Despite the digital age. I could rip out the cover for a bodice-ripper in just days. There was that selection of recent gay literature that went platinum? I'd like to think it was my painting of a centaur horse-handling one of those hairy goat boys that punched the sales. I sold the actual canvas to someone else for enough to cut my mortgage in half.

I was in demand enough, I incorporated. I expanded from pulp cover illustrations to stuff not quite as soul-sucking. I made a good living producing images that were sort of an intellectual challenge, but a waste of my talents. But I was afforded plenty of funds and free time to attend to that matter. I had a really good thing going.

It was early Saturday afternoon. It was a gorgeous day, the house flooded with light. I had a job it might've been fun to work on, just as I had some other of my own stuff in the works. But I'd stayed up really late the previous night working on the latter, so I was kind of low key, having a hanging on the sofa sort of afternoon.

I'd slunk low into the cushions, having gathered a little pillow and a throw for a little nap. But just then my cell rang. I pulled it out of my pocket, flipped it open, checking the number. I took the call.

It was my little sister. I'd do anything for Kristi, so of course I answered. She'd gotten her degree, and I knew from her telling that she wasn't sure what was next, except she'd stay the summer in her college town apartment and try to figure things out.

But then in her call she announced instead that she wanted to move back home to get a head start on her life. I didn't ask about the boyfriend of several years.

I'd met him once, a year back, and was not impressed. Kristi had pressed me afterwards, wondering what I thought. "It's your life, so do what your heart tells you. Personally, I think you could do a lot better."

That taught me to stay out of her business, and avoid situations where my opinion might be called upon. It sucked that it took over a month for her to return my calls, just because I'd wound up declaring to her face that her boyfriend was a total douche bag. Once we began talking again, I never mentioned him again. It was her life, after all. And her douche bag boyfriend.

I learned the high art of just keeping your fucking mouth shut.

Kristi barely had to hint, just enough for me to know what she was asking. I was smart enough to realize she was speaking in the singular. Mr. Douche Bag had been excised from the equation.

I beat her before she even had to think to beg, because I never wanted that. "My spare bedroom is of course yours. For as long as it takes. No further discussion. Okay? Nothing but a big fat welcome mat."

Several Fridays later we were unloading the contents of her car. We moved boxes into her new bedroom. We did that until her car was empty; by then we were both starving, so I called in a pizza. It too came in a goddamn box. We both ate too much, and then vegetated in front of the tube.

At some point, after a bit of yawning, Kristi used a commercial break to get ready for bed. Brush teeth and stuff, and then she came back in a longish tee that, when she sat Indian-style, flashed me a bit of her panties. I doubt she was aware of the view she was affording, much less that I hadn't seen anything like that in ages it seemed. The conversation tipped that way long enough for me to admit that I'd been broken up with my last girlfriend for over four months. It was a lie--try years. Lies like that are okay.

We both agreed soon after that it was time to give up the night. I went to bed to suppress naughty thoughts about my sister. From just a flash of panty; brief and inadvertent, at that. As such, I didn't sleep very well. I was agitated in my dreams. The torture of wanting to not think something. And wondering where all of this sprang from.

Well, I knew that. Very well. The spring of that well. There was no wondering involved, except how something I'd buried so deep had managed to come clawing to the surface.

Because Kristi was my little sister. I was her protector, not her corrupter. I was four years older than her, so I'd always had that distant role.

Dad split so early I barely remembered him. Growing up, he was always punctual with his monthly checks, but I've never seen him since. We never got even close to a stepfather. I was twelve when I realized Kristi had maybe not quite a crush, but an attachment to me. Even Mom noticed it, cornering me in warning alone in the kitchen one morning, the seriousness broken by Kristi bouncing into the room. "Whad're y'all tawking about?" Her weird patois was lovely brilliant.

I just thought it was nice that unlike all my friends' bratty sisters, mine was always nice to me, and ready to do things for me. And I of course abused the privilege. Watching t.v. together, if I needed a refill of soda, say, all I had to do was say so. Of course I'd fill her in on what she had missed while refreshing my beverage.

And then it'd be time for someone to go get us more snacks.

In return, I was always there for her, helping with homework, giving good advice when girlfriends were squabbling over something stupid. And I became a reliable foil between her and Mom. Because they were always butting heads, the way mothers and daughters sometimes do.

Kristi outgrew that level of servitude, though sometimes I could still trick her into fetching me a refill. The Tickle Trick. But even that got dicey as she started to grow out in all other respects.

I felt terrible to think it. Kristi was still so innocent, flopping herself down into my lap as always. Still my goofy little sister, but looking more and more like what my body was looking for in a girl.

I was glad when I got to escape off to college, resisting the temptation to make a terrible mistake. By proxy being an honorable man instead, simply by being away.

Mom got sick from the cigarettes Kristi's last year of high school. I was finishing up my degree and just waiting for my life to take off, when something happened.

Mom was able to travel to watch me get my piece of paper. My passport to greater things, though not really. I shoved my sister on to college, coming home to see Mom through.

Afterwards, I arranged the estate sale. Neither of us wanted to keep the old home. It was a big old house in an older urban neighborhood that'd shot up in insane values. Kristi got to get through college without tasting Ramen noodles. I stayed in town and paid fat down in a more modest neighborhood.

After thinking about all this, my cock was ready to join the rest of the body in sleep. I was glad to know my self-preservation instincts were that well on duty.

I woke up to the smell of fresh coffee. I got out of bed and slipped on some sweatpants and a clean t-shirt, then went to investigate the kitchen. I sort of paused in the doorway. Kristi was hunting around the cabinets. I felt embarrassed to step in the room because she was wearing just this little tight tank top that barely covered her bottom. I could see enough to see she was wearing panties. I felt like I was barging into her bedroom. She opened a cabinet door. The coffee mugs were on the upper upper shelf, which made sense to my height. I kept my favorite mug down on the counter. I'd rinse out the dregs, and sometimes give it a bath. I saw it right by her, looking dirty.

Kristi was easily half a foot shorter than me, so she really had to stretch. I didn't just see her panties, I saw the frilly waistband and an inch or two of bare back above that.

I took a few steps back and made a little morning cough sound to alert her. I made the pause, then stepped back in blind. My sister looked over her shoulder at me nearly beaming. I'd timed it all wrong. I thought she'd grab a mug and be done. Instead she was greeting me like that, still on tip-toe, choosing a mug.

"Fff-finding everything?" I stammered.

"Scored a mug," she grinned. "But I haven't found the sugar I need. Sugar for coffee, that's a must for me. I like my mornings sweet." She back to pour her mug full.

Kristi was insinuating nothing. She was being just my goofy but sweet-loving sister stating how she took her coffee.

Maybe if I'd already had a cup of coffee, things would've made sense. I'd experienced girls in panties making the coffee, which stayed warm while the panties came off. It'd been awhile, though. I was used to making my own goddamn coffee. And then sitting there drinking it in the kitchen alone.

Something in me snapped. "So I see modesty isn't your morning forté."

She shot me a look like I was being pretty squirrelly. She looked down at her clothing, shrugged, then looked back at me. "Sorry, I don't get dressed for coffee. Which is a lie. I sleep au natural, so I did in fact get dressed for coffee. Like it or lump it, buddy." My sister turned back to the cabinets, opening another door, "Okay, so where is the sugar?"

The problem wasn't whether or not I liked it. I liked it way too much. I was having problems with the lump. A smaller head down there was doing my thinking for me.

I walked across the floor and moved up behind Kristi. I gave her a nice tight backwards hug, which she fell into, melting against me. "That feels good, makes me feel safe."

I had to release her. I didn't have a hard-on, but one was well on its way. She had to feel the thickening pressed against her ass as I reached up and over from behind. If we'd been playing basketball, I would've been called for over the back. As it was, I was pushing past some mugs to finger the sugar bowl.

"There you go," I set it down in front of her. "The sugar bowl welcomes you as a liberator. Otherwise it lives way up there. Because my mornings are always dark and bitter."

I lost control of my actions. I wrapped my arms around her for another backwards hug, which Kristi enjoyed until she stopped enjoying it. I could feel the tension entering her body. I had my own tension thing going on, but it was kind of the opposite kind. "Thanks so much for the hug," she decided to settle it. "I feel so safe now, I'd like to go sit at the table and sip coffee with you."

My hands just webbed upward, rolling up the underswell of her breasts.

"Brandon!" she hissed, "what are you doing?!"

"I don't know," I murmured, as I kept doing it.

I was holding her so loosely I was nothing but surprised when she was suddenly turned around. Instead of enjoying the groove of her ass, my by-now full-blown was tapping on the front door. And my hands were holding my sister's breasts from the front, through a thin film of cotton. I could only wonder what would happen next.

Her hands removed my hands, and I took the step back. Kristi stared at me. The look wasn't so much cold as utterly devoid of emotion. "Okay, I get it. I'm sorry you've gone without for four months. I guess this was a really bad idea--me staying here--so I'll find something else. I appreciate you helping me out, but if I have to owe you..."

My heart turned to a block of ice. My veins ran like icicles. Never in my life had I had my cock go from full staff to circus peanut so fast. I'd definitely set a new record for self-mortification.

"I'm so deeply sorry," I stated, backing away from her. "But no, never did I think... " I turned, then looked back. "You owe me nothing. And I want that understood."

I turned to leave the room. Kristi called out, "Wait!"

I continued on my way. "There'll be no wait, so don't worry. A buddy of mine manages a bunch of apartment complexes. We'll get you moved into something nice tomorrow. I can cover the rent and bills until you get on your feet."

"Brandon, stop! Don't you dare walk away mad at me."

Stop I did. And I turned around. "Why would I be mad at you? I'm going to my room because when I feel like a total pervert, I prefer to go slither back under the rock I crawled out from under in the first place." I gave her a great big shrug. "And if that's not okay with you, well, sorry."

I thought that was the end of that, but then Kristi stabbed me in the back. "But what about if I'm a total pervert, too?"

Before I could reply, she'd pulled her shirt up over her head, letting it parachute to the floor beside her. It was like being hit upside the head with a tire iron. My sister's breasts were absolutely gorgeous. They weren't imposing; they were simply perfect. Little stiff nipples like stoppers on bottles bearing the label Suck Me!

All I could do was to faintly bleat my case again. "C'mon, Kristi," I said, "you don't owe me."

She gave a bright little chirpy smile that I could see was forged from raw iron in the depths of her soul. She was taking a big chance. I could never disappoint her.

"But I don't want to move somewhere else tomorrow," she stated as a fact.

The air hung heavy between us. A thick silence. I didn't know what to say. Even though Kristi seemed to be waiting for me to say something. The silence continued, designing the devil's agenda. Until some asshole a couple houses over started up his leaf blower. He had a cheapo big-box model, so it sounded like a gigantic helicopter was trying to land on the entire neighborhood.

We both maintained our composures. Until someone else started up a gas-powered edger. Both our serious faces cracked in smiles.

"I'm not offering you anything I don't already want to give you. I offer what I long for ... what I pine for. If you say you don't want it too, you're a liar, which is good to know. Because I have no further use for guys who lie."

"Kristi, it's not you," I declared. "I'm totally entranced. I just ... I just don't think I could deal with being that close to someone else ever again."

Kristi started getting wet in the eyes. I was worried about what she was thinking, what was making her faucets flow. Then her eyes got a wash of revelation, and resolution. She took a step closer to me, and grabbed one of my hands in hers. "Everything is making sense now. Oh my god, Brandon, what exactly did this girl do to you?"

I shook my head down. "It was awhile ago; let's just leave it at that, well, it was really ugly."

"No. Tell me."

The pause was there, but I refused to take it.

"Ugly like being so excited that even though your lover had to work late, you managed to stay awake to climb all over him. So you scramble to the bedroom where he is more than happy to oblige you. But you want more than a fantastic fuck--you want to extend the reunion into a mind-blowing experience. Which he keeps trying to resist. But you're nimbler than him, and what you want to start things off with is his cock in your mouth. Only thing was, you weren't expecting it to taste of strange."

All I could do was stare at my sister.

"He'd started bringing up the idea of bringing another girl into our bed. I was... okay with the idea. I was always happy to oblige my man. He kind of hinted that the hottest would be for me to surprise him with a girlfriend he'd really like. More than that, he gave a wink to some girl-girl stuff. I've always wanted cock, but I wasn't adverse to the suggestion. Anything to make more cock is sort of my life's motto."

Kristi paused to wipe her eyes. "And I was really working on it. To make the dream come true. But instead my only taste of pussy was sucking his dick after he'd been working late. In all the daytime, constantly hearing about how, yuck yuck, my tits and my ass must've gotten confused and swapped places about which one should be big."

"You can stop if you want."

"But I didn't stop," she sneered. "Time after time I let him, just to get a part of him, even if he reeked of other girls. It took me too long to get tired of it. And when I did, I called you."

She left one of my hands along long enough to trail her fingers down my cheek. "I've shown you mine; now show me yours."

"Kristi, really. I don't want to top your humiliation story. Let's just say I wish it'd involved her wanting a fast fuck, and me insisting on licking her, and finding globs of some other guy leaking out."

Kristi took another step towards me, lovely and naked but for her panties. I was very confused. Like a barometer, my cock kept mirroring my confusion. Up and down, back and forth, it kept going from the titanium rod to the unshelled peanut.

"Tell me," she insisted.

I shrugged and then stared my sister straight. "Okay," I announced. "I didn't get to experience that particular humiliation, because I inadvertently headed her off at the pass. It was our first anniversary. At the time, I worked noon 'til nine, so we had plans where I'd come over after my shift. We'd go out for a late romantic dinner, have some drinks elsewhere, and then I'd spend the night."

I paused. "Sounds like a great plan," Kristi commented. "And then... ?"

"Well," I shrugged. "I knew she got off work at five, so I decided to surprise her. I took the day off, and didn't tell her. We'd exchanged keys months before, so I went over to her place around three to get things ready."

"And?"

"Kristi," I stopped, "do you really want to hear this? It's as awful as things can get. I mean, I've never told anyone the full story."

"Tell me, please."

"I was naked in her bed, waiting. And I'd spent a lot to make it perfect. The only light in the room was the wick-glow of a hundred candles. There were vases of roses all over the room. I'd plucked several dozen so the duvet was covered in petals. Which trailed out down the hall from her bedroom so she'd get the idea."

"And?"

"And then a little after five, I hear the front door open and slam shut. And then it's taking her forever to do that immediate thing of hitting her room to shuck off her work clothes, and thus discover me and my homage. I hear her giggling a little. Then I hear a low voice exclaim, 'What the fuck is this?' Like someone stepped in dogshit and tracked it down the carpet.' He was referring to the trail of rose petals leading my lover down the hall. Which, really, was like someone had stepped in dogshit and tracked it in. So go matters of the heart."

Kristi looked at me. Her eyes were wet again, but she didn't ask for any more details. Which didn't stop me.

"They came in the room and sort of stopped in shock. Her blouse was open and her bra was shoved up so her tits were out. This guy I'd never seen before was hobbling along because his pants were at his ankles, and his dick was in her hand."

"Stop, please," my sister said.

"No. You said yes. Want to know what happened next? What she said next?"

"No."

"She said, and I quote, 'What are you doing here?'"

Kristi lowered her head and kept quiet.

"Me? What else could I answer but Happy Anniversary."

Eventually, the other guy exclaimed, "So you've been doing this other guy behind my back?!!"

"No no," she soothed.

"You said you lived alone."

"He doesn't live here."

There was a very awkward silence as I climbed out of the bed and pulled on my pants. I'd leave the blowing out of all the candles to somebody else.

"Dude," I finally said, "you've got it backwards. She was doing you behind my back.

Though her tits were out, she still had her purse strap over her shoulder. I walked over, reached in and found her key ring. I removed the key to my place and put it in my pocket, pulling my hand out holding my ring. I took her key off my ring, and handed it to the guy. "Guess this belongs to you now. Seeing as how you're the new lucky guy. I certainly don't want it anymore."

I kept holding it out to him and he kept refusing to take it.

"And by the way," I added, "my parting advice." I held my other hand towards them both. I wiggled the two fingers while waggling them back and forth between the two of them. "When it gets to be the one-year of what you two got going... " I looked over my shoulder back into the room, then back at him, "skip the roses, just yank up some goddamn dandelions."

He still wouldn't take the key, so I reached swift and shoved it in the crook of his clenched hand. He immediately dropped it. "Why the hell would I want that?" He zipped himself up and made to leave the room.

"Whoa there, pardner!" I nearly shouted, loud enough to stop him in his tracks. I slipped around them, and then stopped in the hall to turn and nod at him. "Nice try, though. But I get to be the first cowboy to get the hell out of this dodge."

"Buddy, I got your back, and I'll be right on your heels. Bitch can pick her own fucking dandelions."

She gasped our names back and forth. It sounded like CPR--but she was trying to revive the recently deceased. At the front door, the guy declared loudly, "I could really go for a beer right about now; how about you," he tapped my shoulder.

"Count me in for about ten."

Kristi looked at me eyes just sparkling. "You tell a great story. At least you got that avenging ending." She paused. "Did you guys really go out for beers?"

"Hell, yeah!" I grinned. "Darryl turned out to be this really great guy. We still email a couple times a week. We went out and got smashed. He kept talking about his 'narrow escape' and thanking me for it, but turns out it wasn't all that narrow. She'd been banging him for four months, so he too was pretty well vested. By the end, though, our manly heroics had melted into slurry snivels. He lamented what a great lay she was, which she was. I said something like, 'And what a wicked tongue.' Which Darryl took up as a battle cry, me echoing back. We were in this bar chanting Wicked Tongue! until we decided to high-five with our beer mugs. They both shattered, and we were promptly cut off and kicked out."

Kristi lightly kicked my shin. "Guys!" she exclaimed. The movement made her breasts jiggle in a way I didn't but did want to see. I was still resisting.

"Well, what's wrong with nice guys knowing what they like?"

"So did she... ?"

"For weeks it was nonstop. We compared notes. She was calling each of us like twenty times a day. If she wasn't showing up on my doorstep, she was showing up on Darryl's. I'm proud to report I always shut the door on her, and I'm pretty sure he was likewise never tempted."

"So ... what finally happened?"

"A month or so later, right out of nowhere, he suddenly had this beautiful, really cool girlfriend. And she totally staked her claim on her new man. In fact, they're still very much together. There's a photo of them hanging in the livingroom over by the light switch."

"I noticed that," Kristi said, with a knowing smile I did not understand. "I've been wondering who they were."

Then my sister asked the question that made me really uncomfortable. "So, is this bitch still in town? I wanna go scratch her eyes out for screwing you up so bad. How did you ditch her? The war of attrition?"

"Actually," I admitted, "I simply moved back here."

I watched as Kristi's eyes went blank like a slate, seeing through her eyes as her brain did the business. "Brandon," she called me out, "that was like four years ago, not the four months you said last night."

"Yea," I shrugged, "I don't fudge numbers, but sometimes I get iffy on time spans ... but just so I don't appear as pathetic as I actually am."

"So, what do you do for entertainment?"

"Not much. If I'm feeling particularly lonely, there's that strip of fake Irish Pubs down on Broad Street. McDick's and O'Pussies. The prices are high, but the hook-ups are cheap. I'm not proud, but it gets the job done. Though I've been staying away lately, because even that gets problematic."

"What?" Kristi wondered. "You have some fun, start thinking about dinner dates, but she's still in her slutting-around phase?"

"Actually--and no bragging intended--it's usually the other side of that coin. Which baffles me. You stay the night, or extend the invitation, because it's romantic, and so nice to sleep curled up with someone, and then there might be some more fun in the morning. You wake up feeling sexy, but instead she's fixing up breakfast in the kitchen. She's talking about new curtains. Making conversation about how her best friend's new baby is the cutest thing ever."

Kristi pondered for a moment. "What's wrong with that? Isn't that what happens when Man Meets Woman?"

"Don't you understand how sad I feel, watching the motions, observing the feelers. How truly sad it is to see them feeling like they actually got lucky in life's lottery, how they'd managed to pick the one true gem out of the big box of rocks labeled Men. And then bearing the platter of breakfast to you wearing that greedy smug smile of how they'd been cleverer than all the other girls at O'Fuck's last night. None of them were dumb, just too stupid to see I wasn't even a rock, just a broken off chunk of concrete. Which broke off because the contractor had used too much sand in the mixture, which accounted for how I sometimes seemed to glitter."

"What was wrong with them?"

"You don't understand what I'm saying. It's not them, it's me. I'm what's wrong. I've been ruined. I just, I just don't want to buy roses ever again."

Kristi looked down at the floor, blowing out a small puff of air, "Sweet Jesus." Then she looked up and locked eyes. She still had my hands in hers, lifting them all up now. "Step One is, if a girl takes off her shirt, it usually means she wants you to touch them." My sister's hands molded mine onto her breasts. So soft, yet so firm. Her hands massaged mine, guiding me, her fingers teaching mine.

The tutorial over, she let my hands fly solo, draping her forearms loosely around my neck. She leaned in, pushing the backs of my hands against my own chest, giving me a chaste kiss on the lips. She pulled her face back barely an inch. She gave the tip of my nose a playful nudge of her own. "Brandon?"

"Kristi?"

She leaned back in. This time the tip of her tongue wet the furrow between my lips.

This time, afterwards, my sister took a step back. She was biting her lower lip and looking everywhere but at me. Then she dared me a glare. She gave a little shrug, then darted, giving me the quick kiss of familiarity. Then she swept back in and we were kissing like crazy. I gave up and went all in. It was a maelstrom of lips and tongues and teeth that lasted about a minute, and left us both gasping.

Kristi recovered first, slowly sliding her arms down from my shoulders to come resting around my waist. Her fingers tickled then squeezed then tugged on my ass, drawing me closer. That was when my hands decided to leave her breasts and drift down to her other globes, my hands mimicking hers, feeling the bounty through the tight casing of her panties. The guy that'd talked about her fat ass--I wanted to go kill him. My sister had an ass to die for. I was wanting panties out of the way.

"Brandon," she said, "I don't even like roses. I don't even notice curtains. And right now in my life, the best thing about babies is that you get to hand them back to their rightful owners."

"So what do you want to do?" I whispered, gropingly.

Kristi whispered in my ear, "I want to be like your friend in that photograph. We're certainly not alone," she got a twisted grin.

"In what way?" I finally punctured the ensuing silence.

My sister glittered. "Really? You hung out with them? It only took me a second look at the one photo to know."

"To know what?"

"Really? You never guessed? Or noticed the resemblance? That hot little number he quickly hooked up with? Who's his lover-for-life? Who'll never be his wife. Because the law don't work that way."

"What are you saying?" I asked.

Kristi sort of giggled. "Really? You never suspected?" She cast her gaze down.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your friend Darryl and his long-time thing, they're not married, are they?"

"Well, no. After four years, they're probably talking about it. That's just my guess, because I don't probe."

"I do," she giggled, leaning in for more kissin'. After some lip-smackin' goodness wound down, she declared, "They'll be lovers for life. They may even have children. But they'll never marry."

"How do you know that?"

"Law don't allow it." Kristi nuzzled our noses again. Then she bumped chins. "Noses and chins--that's his sister."

There was the vast pause after that. "So what's next?" I asked.

Kristi took her hands off my behind, and then gathered my hands off her behind, only to drop them. She gave me a coy smile. "I was really hoping you'd lead me to your bedroom, and then," she giggled, "you know, make me your woman, or something."