by Richard the Third

Copyright© 2012 by Richard the Third

: I'm a motorcycle cop in California, a chippie is what we are called. I have my divorced sister living with me. You can guess the rest!

Caution: This contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Brother   Sister   .

I'm a cop, actually a member of the California Highway Patrol. Been a chippie for almost ten years. My parents died in a car crash, leaving my little sister Debbie and me, Steven to live in the house we grew up in. We live in Eureka - it's just 50 miles south of the Oregon/California border on the coast having a population of less than 30 thousand people. Closest bigger city is Redding, with just over 90 thousand people.

Her name's Deborah; she's 23, out of college and out of a bad marriage with a jerk who'd beaten her. She'd used a Taser that I'd gotten her and I happily arrested him and he got five years in jail. She's working as a medical transcriptionist out of the house these days, doing pretty well.

I applied to become a chippie, right out of high school. I'm 6ft3 190lbs, while Debbie's 5ft10 160lbs. We both have brown hair and blue eyes. I'm 28.

The house is huge, so we both on occasion have someone over for the night. She rarely finds a guy tall enough to go out with; she puts on heels and becomes over 6 feet tall.

I work out of Division 101 of the California Highway Patrol, based in Redding, two hours from Eureka. Most of my day isn't much to talk about. My name's Steven Newberry.

My day's full of 11-27s, Drivers License Check driver held, and 11-24s, Abandoned Vehicle, with the occasional 11-85, Tow truck required and 10-29s, Check for Wanted. I told you that my day's rather quiet. Every stop's potentially problematic, but — knock on wood — It's been a while since I've had anything exciting happen in my life. Either on the job or off!

Traveling up and down the highways and byway's of California on a motorcycle has its advantages. Living right off of the 101, and traveling up and down the northern third of I-5 all day keeps me busy.

"One-Charlie-David, One-Charlie-David; possible 11-83 at the corner of West Wabash Ave and Sumner Street, Eureka!"

"One-Charlie-David, 10-4 - I'm 23 minutes out."

This was happening on the same street I lived on, 11-83 means there's been an accident, with no details. I'm going in blind. My personal phone rang.

"Stevie, oh Stevie — there's been an accident, in front our house, get here right away, please?" my sister Debbie was screaming.

"Calm down, Sis — I'm on the way already. Do I need to 11-79, er uh sorry, get an ambulance?"

"Probably, just get here Stevie, PLEASE HURRY?"

She's never before screamed at me like that, so I turned on the lights and siren and cranked it up, while calling in the 11-79.

When I got there, I had to laugh! Debby was on the ground, sitting on top of a guy, who was bleeding from his right arm; he looked unconscious. I called in an additional 11-82, Accident property damage.

She saw me arrive and got up and ran towards me. I set her down and picked up the guy was probably 30 pounds, smelling liquor on his breath and put him in restraints. Thank god she hadn't Tasered him.

Looking up, I saw what'd happened; this guy drove into our front yard - tearing up the lawn and the flower garden. My backup showed up and took the perp away. I started getting eyewitness statements, looking over to my sister, who was smiling at me. She put her arms around me again.

"Are you going to be OK, Sis? — I have to go in and make my report, I'll be back just as soon as I can, all right?" I said.

"My big brother, to the rescue," she said, giving me a kiss on the cheek.

I got on my bike and drove to the Humboldt Communications Center in beautiful downtown Eureka and filed my report. When I called in the primary details, including my sister being involved, they gave me two days off, with pay, to resolve whatever needed resolving.

After getting something to drink on the way, I showed back up to the house. Debbie was working on the yard, trying to clean up all she could. I handed her a tea from Mickey D's, she said 'thanks.' I stopped to give her a peck on the cheek, then went in to change. I came out and helped until all that could be done, had been done.

I grabbed my tea and we both thought a dip in the backyard pool sounded good after all of the sweaty work we'd just performed. I quickly changed and jumped in the pool, shivering at its coolness. I was enjoying my self when I heard the backyard door from the house open.

I'd always thought my sister was a pretty girl, but right then and there, she walked out in a wonderfully small and tight sky blue bikini.

She noticed me looking at her and said, "Do I have something on my face, Stevie?" She'd put her hands on her face as if to rub something off.

"N-No, Deb — I was just caught looking at a very pretty girl; who just so happens to be my sister. I've gotten two days off to take care of whatever, that's why I'm home so early."

"You going to go out with one of your girlfriends tonight?" she asked.

"Do you want me to - I could just stay home and look at you all night long." That came out sounding funny to me.

"Wow, no wonder you've got such pretty girlfriends; with a smooth line like that!"

"Sorry, Deb — it wasn't meant to sound like a line. I've never seen you in a bikini before, at least not one that small?"

"So, what do you think of it, anyway?" she said, sauntering up to me, then turning around slowly, modeling it.

"It's pretty, and it makes you look beautiful."

"So, you're saying that unless I'm in a bikini, I'm not beautiful?"

"No, that's not what I said. I think I'm just going to shut up and swim."

I swam some laps and stopped to turn towards her, "Do you want to ... go out tonight, Sis? Dinner and ... I don't know?"

"The idea of dinner with my brother sounds like fun, but 'I don't know' sounds like even more fun," she said with a big grin on her face.

I swam over to her, and stood up and said, "10-22 what I said before Sis, you're very pretty, whether you have a bikini on or not."

That didn't sound any better and I blushed and apologized.

"Dinner sounds like fun, Stevie — how about Mazzotti's Italian Food?"

We got out and changed into nice clothes, and headed to Mazzotti's. My sister sat closer to me than usual, but I didn't think much of it.

"Well, that was the dinner, Steven - what about the 'I don't know?'"

"Deb, you've been flirting with me all day long, what's up anyway?"

"I've been lonely, and I decided I wanted to get to know my big brother better."

"By lonely - you mean horny?" I surmised, looking at her just thinkin.'

"Yeah, I know you're my brother, and I know you could spout out all kinds of legal reasons, but I'm horny, and you've been looking really nice to me lately."

"Well, what do you know - I may just have to put you in handcuffs for saying that to an 'officer of the law.'" Her grin turned nuclear.

"You say that like it's a bad thing, Steven," my sister said.

"You really want to 'have a fling' with your own brother, Debbie?"

"I'm not the only one who's been flirting today?"

"Sorry, that blue bikini surprised me earlier."

"Was that a good surprise or a bad surprise?" her eyes fluttered, she's real good at this stuff.

Leaning in, I said, "You made me hard today Sis - that's never happened to me before, about you."

I felt her hand on my leg, and my first impulse was to let it stay there, but I removed it and said, "Deb, as exciting as this all sounds, there are laws and mores about this. Laws that I believe in, because I believe in the Constitution and the Laws of the California Vehicle Code."

"I love you, Steven — I have ... for a very long time!"


There are many different motivations behind breaking the law, and I've heard them all. A person stopped for speeding often says, "I was in a hurry," while a person arrested for burglary will often say, "I needed the money for food for my family," and other such motivations and justifications.

My last girlfriend, Jesse Vanderbilt, left Eureka and me after I came on too strong and asked her to marry me on our 4th date. Yeah, that was a little presumptuous, but at 28 your priorities and motivations change.

Hearing from your own sister that she 'loves you' is another form of justification. It's not an easy thing to hear, and even more difficult to respond coherently to. I can't quote the California Constitutional Law surrounding incest, but I know that it's wrong. It's always been wrong. The Bible says its wrong; your parents, if you had the balls to directly ask them, would tell you ... that it's wrong.

That damn blue bikini!

We got back to the house and went inside. Debby was following me; I turned on her and said, "Why did you say that you loved me?"

I caught her unprepared, and she started to cry,

"I'm sorry Deb, here let me help you to the sofa. Sit down. I'm really sorry, but you saying that has really messed with my head. I know its wrong to make love with my sister, but — but..."

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