12 comments/ 138106 views/ 39 favorites Blessings Ch. 01 By: Mused Well, it's been a long time, but I'm finally back! My thanks go out to chargergirl for her support and her expert eye. I hope you all like, and don't forget to vote and/or comment. I'd love to know what you think. * The deadbolt crackled as it unlocked. The knob turned, and the door swung open. Amanda came inside first, brushing long brown bangs out of her eyes. With her lovely voice light with laughter, she wondered aloud what the time was. Kevin checked his watch as he slipped in behind her. It was past eleven, a strange time to find the house fully lit on a Sunday night. From the foyer, Kevin could see the flickering of the television reflecting on the veneer of the coat closet. Mom and Dad had evidently fallen asleep watching the late news. Kevin yawned, and not for the first time that evening. The movie he and Amanda had seen had promised to be epic, but instead it was epically bad. The writing, the acting, both were on the level of a volunteer puppet show at the rec center. Amanda had refused to admit that the movie was terrible; the entire drive home she had insisted that it hadn't been a waste of three hours and twenty dollars. "In a world scorned by love," Kevin began in his best Don LaFontaine voice, "one man would make it his destiny to rule the stars." He made the face so often employed by the main character during the movie's most dramatic scenes, the face Kevin had perceptively dubbed "diarrhea face." "Stop it!" Amanda failed to contain her giggles. She covered his face with her hands. "You promised you wouldn't do that anymore." "I am so glad we saw that movie," he said. "You know, three hours wasn't nearly enough time to digest the story. I mean, what became of the evil mystic forces after they were banished to the world of fire and ice? Did they melt? Did they freeze? Did they get stiff nipples and a tan?" For a moment Amanda rested her forehead on Kevin's arm, waiting for the laughter to subside. Once she collected herself, her lips drew sternly tight. "Goodness reigned triumphant." Amanda borrowed her words from the wizened old sage that narrated the film. "Isn't that all that matters?" "No," he said, taking a moment to scratch his chin, "the movie is going to make a boatload of money over the next two weeks, and probably spawn three or four sequels guaranteeing us ten more years of diarrhea face; that, my pretty little sister, is all that matters." He made the face again, and, again, she couldn't contain her laughter. "Want to see it again?" she asked. He did, but only if the numbness in his butt ever subsided. They made plans to catch the same movie next Sunday. Amanda even offered to pay, to which Kevin replied, "After three more hours of intergalactic strife, we'll both pay." He tousled her long brown hair, and then patted her on the behind. She swung at him, connecting a playful blow to his arm. "What?" he asked, "I was just checking to see if the feeling returned." She swatted at his behind in retaliation, prompting him to smack her denim-clad backside even harder. The sound of their father clearing his throat from the recliner in the living room ended their play. "I need to talk to you, Kevin." It was hard to explain how his father sounded. Not exactly stern, not exactly upset, he sounded oddly determined about something. "Mandy, your mother is waiting for you in your bedroom. She wants to talk to you, too." Kevin's heartbeat quickened. Worriedly, he looked to Amanda for some clue as to what was going on, but she could offer nothing more than a concerned frown. She shrugged out of the canary-yellow cardigan that had kept her slender arms warm in the chilly movie theater, and draped it over the banister. She touched his cheek and neck, silently saying goodnight, before slowly marching up the squeaky stairs. Kevin made his way to the living room. He gingerly lowered himself on the sofa, sinking into the squishy cushions. He nervously leaned into a stack of throw pillows and squirmed under his father's gaze. He didn't know why he felt so inadequate. He hadn't done anything wrong. He no longer lived at home, so he was dependent of his father for nothing. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was once again a ten-year-old boy about to be reprimanded for playing ball in the house. James Armstrong combed his graying sideburns with his fingernails. He was apprehensive about something. In a flash, Kevin's fear of being reprimanded morphed into a fear of something else, something beyond his control. Something was wrong; Kevin just knew it. His stomach grew queasy as he imagined the worst: someone was sick, or someone had died. He thought of his grandparents, quickly reviewing each of their ages and ailments. He swallowed mechanically and thought of his cousin Phil who had recently quit drugs and turned his life around. Was it Phil? Had he succumbed to his addiction once again? Dad rested his elbows on his knees and tilted his head downwards. His shaggy, salt-and-pepper hair tumbled in waves. He exhaled slowly. "Goddamn, this is hard." He laughed nervously, stilling Kevin's heart just a bit. Dad slowly rose from the recliner. His knees and back popped as he stretched. Kevin watched his father pace the room a few times, watched him with the awe of a frightened child. Dad slowly moved to the banister. He collected Amanda's yellow cardigan and twisted the soft material in his hands. Returning to the front room, he deposited the sweater on Kevin's lap. The knit yellow material was still slightly warm from Amanda's body; it was flavored by the slightest hint of Amanda's unassuming perfume. The hairs on Kevin's neck slowly rose. "I know that the two of you are close, and I'm glad; I really am. It's just I never thought—God, never even imagined that something like this could happen." Kevin could no longer breathe. Something was wrong with Mandy, his baby sister, something terrible. He felt his face go white, then red, then purple. He felt the need to sit down, barely remembering that he already was. He and Mandy had spent the evening together, as they often spent their Sundays, with bad food and a movie. She acted fine, he reminded himself. She was laughing and joking and healthy; there was nothing wrong with her. She ate all of her fried chicken salad; she'd even bummed half of his cheddar sticks. "The two of you haven't been overt or anything, it's just the little things we've noticed. Your mother and I have talked a lot about it lately." His father stumbled on his words. He was being so cryptic, and it was driving Kevin crazy. "I want you both to be happy; your mother does too..." Dad wrung his hands and cleared his throat once more. "We want you to be happy, son." Kevin touched his forehead; his skin was burning hot. "I am happy." "Cassie, she seemed really nice." Cassie was the girl Kevin had brought over for Easter. She and Kevin had dated for a while, finally breaking it off before summer. "I almost thought you felt something for her. But I'm your father, and I know when you're putting on a show." Kevin stiffened his back. Does my dad think I'm gay? There was no way. How could his father even entertain such an idea? He wanted to race to the door, to his car. He wanted to blink himself home to the privacy of his own apartment. "Dad," he stood up and assumed a defensive posture, "whatever you think about me---" "Don't do it, Kevin. You don't have to lie to me. You don't have to be ashamed of the way you feel." Kevin slowly sat back down, convinced that the world had gone crazy. He heard laughter upstairs, his sister's laughter. "It really is okay. You know I think the world of her. She's my little girl and always will be. I want her to be happy, and I want you to be happy, and if that means you're happy together then so be it. Kevin's heart went from beating extremely fast to not at all. He finally realized what this little conversation was about. It was like a fifty ton weight lifted from his chest. No one had died; he wasn't being forced into or out of the closet. Kevin's frown lifted into a smile. Unable to hold back, he started laughing uncontrollably. "Dad, Mandy and I are not... Oh my God, you thought that we were..." Kevin couldn't even say it. He had a hard enough time thinking it. He could only laugh at his father's expense. He and Mandy, what wasn't there to laugh about? His father's face went crimson. He impotently tried explaining himself. "You spend so much time with her, and you never fight. I started to notice the way you look at one another, and I thought..." Kevin forced himself to recapture some semblance of composure. "I like hanging out with her; that doesn't mean that we're doing it or anything," Kevin said. "Oh my God, does Mom think that we're...," he pumped his fist salaciously, "too?" His father's face went redder. She obviously did. He pictured Mom having this same conversation with his sister upstairs; that explained Mandy laughing her little head off. Dad rested his elbows on his knees. Once more he rubbed his face with his palms. Dad was, if nothing, a good sport. He apologized to Kevin for even imagining anything so sordid. And he promised to apologize to Amanda. That was good enough for Kevin, who retreated to his own apartment, eager to put the evening behind him. Kevin wandered aimlessly through the halls of Cedar View. The community college's small campus buildings were usually so familiar to him, yet he found himself lost in foreign halls. He completely slept through his morning Western Civics class. He showed up for Noon Biology class an hour late. When he finally made it to class on time, for his afternoon Computer Science lab, his brain was too frazzled to concentrate. For the first time in his life he failed a test. And it wasn't just a fifty-eight or fifty-nine percent better-luck-next-time F; it was an ugly, odious seventeen percent why-the-Hell-did-you-bother-coming-back-to-school-? F. As he printed out the results of his lab test on the lightning-fast laser printer, Kevin felt a protest from his belly. He had neglected breakfast and completely spaced on lunch. No matter how nauseated the F grade made him, he had to eat something. He gathered his massive textbook and stuffed it and his folders into his green messenger bag. He zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder. The cafeteria's selection was pretty bleak this late in the day. The fried foods, the chicken tenders, the onion rings, and the tater tots, all smelled like fish sticks, except for the fish sticks, which curiously smelled like tater tots. The salad bar looked terrible, by this point in the day the lettuce was wilted, the tomatoes were shredded pulpy things, and the various salad dressings had been accidentally drizzled over everything. Pizza was always a safe choice. Kevin snagged the last slice of pepperoni. He grabbed a cup of coffee and took it to the cashier. He carried his tray to one of the booths near the back wall, somewhere secluded from the night students who slowly trickled in. The night students were older than the day students. Many came straight from work, as evidenced by the number of students in nurses' scrubs and greasy work shirts. At twenty-five, Kevin should have been one of them. He worked for a living but only four very long days a week. He used his Mondays off for classes. He thought that taking day classes would guarantee a fresher brain and better grades. The F in his messenger bag had obviously proven him wrong. He sipped at the coffee, unable to decide if it was too hot or not hot enough. Kevin extracted his cell phone from his jeans pocket. No calls. He wondered why he expected a call. After the previous night, Mom and Dad wouldn't be calling for a while. He absentmindedly thumbed through his list of contacts and stopped on Amanda. He wondered if she was off of work yet. He wasn't sure he should call her right away, considering what had happened. "There he is!" A voice drew Kevin's attention. It was Mark, one of his best friends from high school. A year ago, the two had made up their minds together to go back to school. Mark sat down across from Kevin. He unbuttoned his Carhartt work jacket and asked what was up. Kevin simply sighed and dug into his bag. He showed off his shameful test grade. Mark whistled in awe. "Don't try to build up my confidence too much," he said. "You're the smartest guy I know, and if you got an F I can't imagine what I'll get. Do they hand out G's?" Kevin smirked. He wasn't really in the mood to crack a full smile. "So what's the deal?" Mark asked. "I know that mope, and Kevin Armstrong doesn't show that mope because of some hard-ass lab test. "Oh, uh...it's just something that's on my mind." Kevin's phone vibrated. He checked the caller ID and saw that it was an anonymous number, just a junk call. "This something on your mind wouldn't happen to be a someone by any chance?" Mark was perceptive if he was nothing else. "And this someone wouldn't happen to be a certain type of someone," his hands traced an hourglass figure in the open air between them, "the type of someone who wears skirts and makeup." The truth was Amanda had been on his mind all night and all day. For twenty years she had been his baby sister, a hero-worshipping tag-along who grew into an innocent needing protection from the seething hormonal ocean of adolescence. Physically, they were nothing alike; she was petite and delicate, with soft curves and even softer skin; and he was a tall, rough-hewn jock who might have been given a football scholarship to a real college had two wasted knees not prevented it. Yet despite the physical differences, they were very much alike, platonic soul mates who enjoyed the same movies, read the same books, and laughed at the same jokes. Now she was something else. The runaway imagination of his mother and father had corrupted his image of innocent, pretty little Mandy. She was twenty now, a woman. Mandy, Amanda, is a woman; he had no idea why he found that fact so intriguing. He had no idea why she had invaded his dreams so pervasively last night. He had awakened at ten in the morning to find he had rolled over on to his stomach during the course of the night, trapping his hardness between the mattress and his body. His penis tingled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Kevin very rarely dreamed such vivid dreams. He could still feel the warmth and moisture of her female flesh, and the affection of her touch. Sex dreams were no stranger to Kevin. But Amanda? He had felt like a fiend for stumbling to the bathroom and stroking himself as the dream replayed itself. Amanda sat beside him in the movie theater, shoveling alternating handfuls of popcorn and Milk Duds into her mouth. She looked so warm in her bright yellow sweater. It hugged her body completely, showing off the supple curve of her form without showing off at all. A piece of popcorn stuck to the glorious pink of her lips. In his dream he'd reached to brush it away, but she caught his hand. Her lips closed around his index finger. She hummed happily. He'd been eating popcorn and Milk Duds, too, he remembered. She must have enjoyed the taste of salty butter, and chocolate, and him. Amanda released his finger after a few moments. She pressed back into the generously padded theater seat and tilted her head wantonly, inviting a kiss. Kevin glanced around. Mom and Dad, who in reality rarely went to the movies, were a few rows ahead with their eyes firmly focused on the screen. No one else was in sight in the dimly lit theater. The digital sound system erupted with a cacophony of exploding starships. This was the grand finale of the movie, the climax. Kevin inched toward Amanda. Her pink tongue peeked out for a moment, moistening her lips in anticipation. As Kevin moved closer, he could smell salty butter and chocolate and her. There was something else, something fruity. It was the cherry lip balm that she always kept in her purse. She had applied a fresh sheen to her glistening mouth. It smelled like heaven; it would taste like heaven. She whispered his name just then. It wasn't the husky whisper of a woman in lust; it was the playful, conspiratorial whisper she used when they were discussing what Christmas presents to buy Mom and Dad. Mouths touched. She tasted like cherries and chocolate and a hundred sweet things. He felt a wet, wriggling object push through his lips. Opening his mouth he welcomed her tongue and parried it with his own. Her hands, meanwhile, found the fly of his jeans. She forced open the button, lowered the zipper, and parted the slit in his boxers. He wasn't sure they should go so far in the theater, but the moment her delicate fingers wrapped themselves around the shaft of his stone-hard penis, he surrendered. He didn't care if his semen soiled his pants, or her form-fitting sweater. He didn't care if his grunts earned inquisitive looks from the other movie watchers who had materialized from nothing to surround them. Kevin had arched his back as the first jet of his release splashed onto the ivory rim of the toilet. The final spurts fell into the basin, dissolving into greasy globs in the water. He flushed the bowl, wishing he could flush his mind as well. How could he think about Amanda that way? Though he vowed to never do it again, throughout the day his mind was inundated with shameful thoughts of Amanda. As he explained his lateness to his Biology professor, he thought about Amanda's sweater and the body it contained, knowing that the things he wanted to do to that body broke any number of biological rules. As he took his Computer Science test, he thought of the times they had fallen asleep on Amanda's bed after watching the late movies on cable. In his newest fantasy, the innocent positions they often awoke in would turn not so innocent: a shapely thigh draped over his hip, a jiggling, braless breast in his hand, her neck and sweet-smelling hair pressed close to his nose, they all led to very erotic, very graphic sex scenes. As highlights of his fantasies replayed, Kevin felt his erection growing beneath the cafeteria table. Jesus Christ, Kevin, what is your deal? Clearly, he needed something to keep his mind off of Amanda. He turned his attention back to Mark who sat patiently across from him in the school cafeteria. Mark's head tilted as he regarded Kevin curiously. "You are acting really out of it today. Do you want some more coffee?" "No, no more coffee," Kevin raised his hands in surrender. The first cup had gone through him curiously fast; he already felt the restroom beckon. "Okay, listen, can you stick around until classes are over?" Mark held out his hands about ready to make an offer he knew Kevin wouldn't accept, "There is this really cute girl in my Sociology class, and she has a really cute friend that sits next to her." Kevin started to slouch; he hated fix ups. "We're going out for drinks as soon as we finish up, sort of a midterm cool down. I told them you'd come along." Kevin reached for his messenger bag and brushed the pizza crumbs from his sweater. "No, I don't think so." Mark grabbed his arm. "Come on, Denise and Melody are really hot, and they're really available. You need a girlfriend, really bad. You would have to be completely screwed up to strike out with both of them. At least it'll get your mind off of whatever girl has gotten you all worked up." He seemed annoyed by Kevin's reluctance. "I know you don't like being set up, but it's not like you go out and try to meet women on your own." "So I'm not out there on the prowl." Kevin opened his arms wide; the sleeves of his navy sweater drooped past his wrists. "That doesn't mean that there's something wrong with me!" He hadn't meant to be so loud. One of the cafeteria workers looked up from the cash register; she fixed a curious eye on the flustered young man. Blessings Ch. 01 "Your best friend's trying to set you up with two incredibly cute eighteen-year-olds and you go all berserk. Oh, no, there's nothing wrong with you. Damn, Kev, I'm going to have to take Psychology next semester, just so I can figure you out." Mark started to rise from the table. Kevin stopped him. "You're right, man; I'm messed up pretty bad." Kevin's entire body trembled. He wasn't sure how he was going to tell his friend the truth, but he decided he would just the same. "I've just, ugh..." Kevin rested his elbows on the table and massaged his temples. "I can't stop thinking about Mandy." Mark's head cocked slightly. "Thinking about Mandy how?" "Thinking about doing stuff with her," Kevin's voice dropped, "to her." Mark mouthed the words "Oh shit." He checked his watch. He was late for class but didn't care. "What kind of stuff, Kev?" "God, you know what kind of stuff, kissing and touching. And fucking." Mark's jaw dropped at that confession. "I know it's fucked up; I know it is! But I can't stop thinking about her." "And this is something that's been going on for a while?" Mark asked. "No!" Kevin responded, somewhat indignantly. "I've never thought about Mandy like that before in my life. It was my idiot parents who put the idea in my head last night. We came back from the theater late like always, and there was Dad sitting on the couch wanting to speak with me. He said Mom and him had talked about us a lot. He thought we would only be happy if we were together, so he gave us his blessings." "Wait, your father gave you permission to sleep with Mandy?" Mark asked. It sounded sordid when put so bluntly, but as Kevin thought about it, that's exactly what he had done. "Did you?" "No, God no!" Mark cracked a slight smile. Kevin asked him how he could find any humor in the situation. "I've always kind of wondered about the two of you. You do spend a lot of time together, and you never fight. I mean, God, sometimes I practically want to kill my sisters." Mark's smile widened. "Some of the guys joke around about the two of you." "She's my friend; we get along; we hang out. That doesn't mean anything. She's my sister." "I know that," Mark said defensively, "but, shit, she's incredible. Have you ever really looked at her?" Kevin had. He'd never gone so far as to overtly check her out, but he had noticed. The little peeks he had taken over the years had apparently fueled his recent fantasies. He had spent the last several years observing the subtle changes that shaped her body, the swelling of her breasts, the curving of her hips. "She's hot, Kev, and all the time you spend together tells me that she's into you." "So---" "So maybe these little fantasies are just your subconscious trying to tell you something. Maybe you've been blind to something that was there all along, something your parents saw. You should take some time to figure out what you want. Maybe you're driving yourself nuts because you can't decide if you want her or if you want to forget about her." He could never forget about Amanda, nor did he want to. He never wanted to spend his Sunday nights with anyone else. For twenty years he had loved her as a sister. Now, he realized, he loved her as a woman. The realization cleared his head better than the coffee ever could. Nothing looked the same as it had just a few moments ago. The world was bathed in new light. Thoughts of failure and isolation were replaced by a new sense of hope. He hoped Mark was right. He hoped she was sending him signals. He hoped she wanted him too. Kevin's eyes were open now, his heart too. He felt something for Amanda, and he realized he always had. He wanted to kiss those sweet, glistening pink lips in the dark theater, wanted to open the zipper of that sunny yellow cardigan to get at the treasure within. He wanted to tell Mom and Dad they were right, that Mandy was the girl for him. Most of all he wanted to know that she felt exactly the same way. He wished Mark well on the test and watched his friend head for class. Ignoring the pressure in his bladder, Kevin fumbled for his cell phone. As he journeyed through the sparsely populated parking lot, Kevin nervously scanned the vicinity for eavesdroppers. He leaned against a random car, a dusty Cadillac. He thumbed through his list of contacts, stopping at Amanda. Her cell phone number was accompanied by a cute thumbnail picture of her making an exaggerated kissy-face. Normally the picture made him smile, but this time that face and those lips made his head spin. How will she react?, he wondered. Will she twist her tiny white feet in the carpet and shyly admit that she feels the same way, or will she slap him in the face and call him a freak? What if she laughs at me? Kevin didn't think he could handle that. He wanted to call her, to hear her voice, but he no longer had the nerve. He hit the down button on the cell phone, and held it down until it cycled through his entire contacts list. It stopped on the last entry. Kevin hadn't realized she was still in his contacts list—he thought he'd erased her. But there was the evidence, Cassidy Zenk's number accompanied by a tiny picture. He had forgotten how pretty Cassie looked, with that curly blonde medusa's hair framing her slim, freckled face. He hadn't talked to her in forever. They had been pretty inseparable during spring classes, and had spent most of spring and Easter breaks together. They broke up right before summer. Why did we break up? For the life of him, Kevin couldn't remember. Thinking about Cassie eased his nerves for a moment because he was no longer thinking about Amanda. The calm didn't last. A young couple came out of the school. They held hands and took turns delivering kisses to one another's neck. The boy slipped his hand into the rear pocket of the girl's low-rise jeans and squeezed one deliciously plump cheek. The kid was lucky; the girl had an incredible ass, almost as incredible as Amanda's. Hers was the type of butt that looked great in jeans, khakis, or whatever. And shorts? If ever there had been a girl meant to wear shorts it was Amanda. Whether it was short shorts that left little to the imagination, or Bermuda shorts that demurely reached for her knees, Amanda's shapely backside looked great in them all. A thought struck Kevin. She would be home right now, dressed for bed. When the weather was nice, she wore a long sleeping shirt that reached halfway down her thighs. Sometimes when she bent over or lay down just right, the nightshirt would raise just enough to give him glimpses of that incredible ass clad in nothing but panties. He wanted to see her, needed to see her. Dad would be in the living room watching Monday Night Football. Kevin could sit on the sofa and pretend to watch. It wouldn't be long before Amanda came downstairs to sit by his side. He could sate his sudden desire to see that butt. He might even figure out some excuse to touch it, a playful swat, or a pinch. He knew he was perverted, but desire ruled out his better judgment. Ignoring all apprehensions, Kevin hurried over to his parents' house, hurried to see Amanda. To be continued... Blessings Ch. 02 There are four chapters to Blessings. They should post in daily intervals. Thanks go out to chargergirl for her support and for her expert eye. Don't forget to vote and/or comment. I'd love to know what you think. * As he'd suspected it hadn't taken Amanda long to join him on the sofa. She had glided down the stairs like a goddess. Amanda wore her sleeping clothes, a bright red Mickey Mouse t-shirt that stretched halfway to her knees. She was not long removed from her shower. Her skin was still flushed from the hot water and lustrous from the body lotion she had applied. Kevin pretended not to notice how good she smelled as she plopped down on the couch beside him. Apple body wash and strawberry shampoo conspired together to distract him from the football game. He inched closer toward her, shifting his hips just a bit on the sofa. Angling his head to get a better whiff, he instead got a better view. Her right arm was propped on the back of the sofa; her shoulders were turned in his direction. The position accentuated the curves of her breasts. That they were angled toward him drove him mad. With each breath she took, they rose and fell. Unrestrained beneath her night shirt they were free to bob and sway, reacting to every little movement she made. Kevin tried to concentrate on the game. Dad occasionally asked him questions about the two teams or about a particular player, but Kevin was too distracted to give coherent answers. He glanced at Amanda again; she now reclined against the opposite arm of the sofa. Her shapely legs stretched enticingly across the seat cushions. She scissored her legs, playfully bouncing her heels on the middle cushion. As her legs rose and fell, he was treated to enticing glances beneath her nightshirt. Her pale legs were even paler beneath the short hem of her red nightshirt. The soft flesh of her inner thighs jiggled with every motion, moving as unpredictably and as erotically as her breasts. Kevin angled his head a bit, trying to see even more. At the junction of her thighs he caught a glimpse of turquoise blue. He leaned forward, under the pretense of scratching his foot and glimpsed even more turquoise. Her panties, he realized. The leg openings were trimmed with black-and-white striped elastic. The harder he concentrated the more he thought he could see brown curls pressing against the soft fabric. She stopped bouncing her heels. Her right foot reached out to touch his left arm. Fearing he might have been caught peeking, he abandoned his view of her panties and concentrated on the TV. She rubbed the sole of her foot along his arm, tracing a delicate pattern across the navy sweater. Slowly she moved down his bicep, across his elbow, and over the length of his forearm. Kevin shivered. Beneath the sweater, his arm hairs stiffened at her touch. She moved her foot down, slipping it under the cuff of his sweater. He glanced at her face, but she was watching the game intently, paying absolutely no attention to what her feet were doing. Her foot slipped out of his sweater. Her nimble toes curled around the top of his hand, and she pinched him, hard. Kevin yelped. He grabbed his hand as she squealed with laughter. "Mandy, stop pestering your brother," Dad warned. "Sorry Daddy." Her lips drooped in a pout. "We'll kiss and make up." She crawled on her knees to Kevin's side and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek. She left a streak of saliva on his face and laughed again. Refusing to relinquish her pout, she turned to Dad and asked, "Would you get me something to drink?" Dad asked what his little girl wanted. Kevin rolled his eyes. His dad wouldn't have been so accommodating had he asked."You want something, Kevin?" Dad asked. Kevin called out Diet Coke, as his father headed for the kitchen. Amanda was still close at his side. She pressed her warm body against Kevin's shoulder. He wanted to put his arm around her waist, to hold her even closer, but he was afraid she might laugh at him. "Can you believe what they thought?" she said. "I mean you and me?" "It's nuts," he nervously answered. He felt his hand leave the safety of the sofa. It was destined for Amanda, more specifically the warm skin of her exposed thighs. From the kitchen, Dad hollered at them. That was enough to halt Kevin's advance. Dad yelled that they were out of Diet Cokes. He asked if the regular kind would be alright. "You want to mess with him?" she asked. Kevin's hand fought to rise from the sofa. He swallowed hard and asked how. "Follow my lead." She climbed on Kevin's lap and sat facing him. He oophed like he'd just had the wind knocked out of him. "Coke sounds fine, Daddy," she called. "I think Kevin's in the mood for something sweet, anyway." She grabbed his wrist and forcefully placed it on her thigh. He was in heaven, absolute heaven. As she squirmed on his lap, trying to find a more comfortable position, her soft butt ground against his crotch. He wanted to trail his fingers up her magnificent legs, to sneak under the hem of her nightshirt and feel her magnificent ass through the turquoise cotton panties, but he was completely frozen. He could do nothing but sit there and sweat. She tugged the zipper of his quarter-zip navy sweater, exposing the white oxford he wore beneath. She undid the top two buttons of the shirt and exposed the base of his long neck. She pressed her lips to his neck just as Dad returned with the sodas. Dad looked as confused as Kevin felt. Her lips climbed the side of his neck. They weren't proper kisses, just light contact between her lips and his skin (this was, after all, a put-on), but they were incredibly hot. She rose up on her knees and sank back down, better positioning herself over his crotch. "Mmmm," she moaned, "Daddy, you were so right. Kevin and I are so good together." She leaned forward to quickly peck Kevin's lips. She remained in that position, rubbing their noses together and mashing her breasts against his heaving chest. "Come on," she whispered into his mouth, "play along." Kevin slipped his hand under her nightshirt. He grazed her soft butt before settling on the small of her back. She reacted favorably, cooing into his ear and playfully nipping the lobe. He wanted to move his hands and graze her butt again, but he was totally paralyzed. "And to think, we have Daddy to thank for everything!" Dad stumbled backwards a step. Despite the little conversation he and Kevin had, it was clear that he was not prepared to see his son and daughter engaged in any type of intimacy. He fell backwards into the recliner. Both glasses of Coke went flying, thoroughly drenching both he and the chair. She nipped Kevin's ear one last time before losing control. She threw her arms around Kevin's neck and tried to smother her laughter in his shoulder. He was still erect, and she was still in his lap. He had been so nervous that he didn't realize how close to climax he was. Her laughter sent tremors throughout both of their bodies. Her unrestrained breasts jiggled against his chest; her soft legs clenched tighter around his lap; and her crotch, that place that radiated such glorious warmth, rubbed his own crotch, teasing his erect penis. His tension eased just enough to where he could move his arms. His hands slipped to her butt. He kept them there, using the justification that he was helping her keep her balance; he didn't want her to fall over laughing and bang her head on the floor. He had touched her there before. There had been accidental brushes, playful smacks and pinches, but nothing like this, nothing like molding his hands around the perfectly shaped cheeks. He wanted to squeeze them, but he didn't dare. He just kept his hands in place and hoped she didn't figure out what he was doing. Dad got up from the recliner. His white t-shirt was soaked with sticky brown soda. "Damn it, Mandy!" he cursed. Amanda started laughing all over again. "What's the matter, Daddy? Not quite ready for grandkids?" That statement combined with the friction from her body was too much. Kevin felt the orgasm approach but was powerless to stop it. His hands moved to her hips, where he tried to rock her against his spurting penis. The release was amazing. Mandy was amazing. He spurted again and again, soaking his boxers. He was so in love but knew that none of it was real. The kisses were fake, the touches an act. He felt increasingly foolish as his cold, wet penis wilted. He pitched Amanda off of his lap. She was still laughing at Dad's spill when she asked why he was leaving. Kevin made up a lame excuse about homework. He didn't want Amanda to see the growing wet spot on the front of his jeans, so he walked sort of hunched over, blocking his fly with his left hand. The strange position probably only drew attention to it. He heard Mom at the top of the stairs. She asked what the commotion was. Kevin knew he didn't want Mom to see the wet spot, and he didn't want to explain what had just happened between him and his sister. Repeating the lame excuse about homework, he abruptly left. The week passed, and Kevin was able to reclaim some manner of focus. The grind of his job certainly helped. Kevin worked a paint line in a small manufacturing plant. The job was hot and messy; he often had to use the company shower to get the sweat and powder-coat out of his hair, but at least the job offered solitude. Spending nearly ten hours a day in a paint booth was a unique kind of meditation. Muttering to himself through the respirator, he spent the week considering life and love, and replaying Monday evening on the couch with Amanda more than a few times. It had been a game to her, a not-so-innocent joke. She had laughed, not only at Dad but at him. By Friday, he decided he needed a diversion, so he found himself thinking about Cassie. Thinking about her conjured up memories: Cassie in her flowery Easter dress, Cassie in English class twirling ropes of blonde hair around a mechanical pencil, and Cassie at the waterpark on Memorial Day, modeling the new bikini she'd bought just for him. And that bikini was fantastic. The triangles of turquoise and beige stripes had done little to conceal her willowy body. She was quite thin, a bit too thin, but she looked absolutely stunning in a bikini, like a model. Kevin had never been outgoing. Girls he found particularly intimidating. He had gained a bit of experience playing the standard teenage dating games; he spent years trying to get from one base to the next, and he lost his virginity under the most clichéd of circumstances, prom night. Yet he'd never been the type of guy who would traipse through clubs or parties scoping out his next conquest. He felt little compulsion to approach strange girls. Cassie had been different. He'd met her in English class last spring, and the two seemed to click. She was rational and sensitive (everything he was), yet bubbly and outgoing (everything he wasn't). Everyone who met Cassie fell instantly in love with her; Kevin was no exception. Yet it hadn't worked out. They hit a few snags in the relationship when they started spending less time together. She drifted toward her friends, and he drifted toward his. The drift turned into a mutual decision to take a break from one another, a break that never ended. And thus we prove that Kevin Armstrong is the biggest idiot on the planet. He should have called her, or sent an e-mail. Hell he could have mailed her a postcard. He wondered what might have happened had they not broken up. Monday on the couch wouldn't have happened; that was for certain. He wouldn't have ruined a perfectly good pair of boxers and his favorite jeans. He wouldn't be slowly driving himself crazy thinking about Amanda. After getting off work Friday, Kevin stopped at the bank, picked up a take-and-bake pizza for dinner, and bought a pack of vacuum bags at Wal-Mart. As Kevin cleaned his apartment that night he made a mental checklist of his plans for the weekend. Bob, one of his buddies from work, was moving into a bigger house. To spare Bob the expense and expertise of professional movers, the guys at work had all promised to pitch in. That would eat up a good portion of Saturday. And then what? He would do homework Sunday morning. The F he received Monday was a blow to his overall grade, but with strong homework and even stronger test scores, he could salvage his grade. He might even be able to finagle some extra-credit work out of his professor, Mrs. Langdon. Then he would have just enough time to hop over to the parents' for movie night. Absentmindedly, he picked up the day's copy of the Star. He flipped to the movie listings section, before freezing. His imagination conjured up an image of Amanda; the zipper of her yellow cardigan lowered just enough to show she wasn't wearing anything beneath. Cleavage, he saw a hint of her white, generous cleavage. She climbed on his lap, facing him the way she had Monday night. He tugged the zipper all the way down, and parted the sweater. Her large, tear-shaped breasts were capped by swollen pink nipples. The areolas were round, and half-dollar sized. He wanted to kiss them, then keep them between his lips and suck. He imagined her whispering that he could do anything he wanted to her. She kissed his lips hard, promising that this time it wasn't pretend. Kevin blinked the bewitching image away, realizing, to his consternation, that his penis had grown rock hard. He couldn't think such things about Mandy. And he certainly couldn't see her, not in his current state. The movie could wait a weekend. The evil empire wasn't going anywhere. Diarrhea Face wasn't going anywhere. And other than helping his friend move in the morning, he wasn't going anywhere for the rest of the weekend. Amanda heard a car out on the street. She rushed to her bedroom window and peeped through the curtain, but it was only the neighbor, Mr. Pinkston, just back from the store. She slowly put the curtain back in place and retreated to her bed. She felt like such a waste of space, wearing her nightshirt at Seven P.M. on a Sunday night. Usually, she and Kevin would be at some grimy drive-through, pigging out on greaseball burgers, a meal that was always followed by a trip to the multiplex. There they inhaled even more junk food, indigestion be damned. It was their little tradition, and she liked it. But Kevin hadn't been around since Monday. Dad had been furious once he got the soda cleaned up. But it was a great prank, and Kevin seemed to have enjoyed himself. He was certainly hard enough. She didn't blame him for that. She knew that guys got erections every time the wind changed. The way she was squirming around in his lap probably didn't do him any favors. She got a little wet, too, but only from the friction of their bodies rubbing together. She remembered his hands had snuck under her nightshirt. She hoped he hadn't noticed her wet panties. It would be incredibly embarrassing to let your brother know that rubbing on him made you wet. No, she decided, he only felt my butt, not my crotch. She thumbed through a few magazines as another hour ticked away. Surely he had laundry to do, or he was running low on groceries. He usually stopped by after work a few times per week to raid the pantry and fridge or do laundry. He hadn't even called. She had his number, of course, but she was reluctant to call him. After Monday night, and their parents' little stunt before that, he was probably just a little weirded out. She hoped that he'd snap out of it soon; she really missed his company. She turned on her laptop and instinctively found herself at the movie listings website. It was so nice to spend time with a guy without any expectations or pressures. She could cuddle next to a warm body in the chilly theater and not have to worry about where her date's hands might go or what his hands might do when they got there. She always felt so secure with Kevin, and it was the kind of security that only a big brother could provide. Another car moved up the street; this one slowed to the squeak of shoddy brakes. She knew the squeak by heart and bounded down the stairs. Kevin was too late for dinner, but Mom heated him a plate of lasagna, and cut a piece of chocolate cake. Mom had cut them each a piece of cake. Kevin stood at the counter, shoveling forkfuls of noodles into his mouth, while the rest of the family sat at the table, civilly eating cake. He poured a glass of skim milk and quickly downed it. He offered a deluge of schoolwork as the reason for his sudden reclusiveness. Amanda knew better. She could see his discomfort in the way he inhaled the food (the faster he ate, the faster he could leave). She could see it in the way he desperately avoided any and all eye contact with Mom, Dad, and especially her. "Well," he said, using the good dish towel as a napkin, "You are still the world's greatest cook, Mom." "Actually," Dad said, "your sister made the lasagna." Amanda licked some chocolate frosting from her lower lip. "It was just Hamburger Helper, no big deal." She had made the cake from a mix, too, but didn't want to brag. "Don't sell yourself short, cupcake," Dad said. "You're going to make someone a great wife someday; just not Kevin, apparently." It was a brave attempt at diffusing the tension, and a funny one. Amanda couldn't stifle a giggle, neither, apparently, could Mom or Dad. Kevin's mood changed at the sound of their laughter. He went from uncomfortable to indignant. "What is wrong with you people?! Do you think I'm some kind of perverted freak who can't find a real girlfriend?" He still had some chocolate in the corner of his mouth. "I would never touch Mandy, never, God damn it! So just let it fucking rest." He pitched the fork into the sink, letting it clatter around in the stainless steel basin. As quickly as his anger flared, it subsided. He quietly apologized for the outburst, his eyes trained on the dirty dishes in the sink. He still wouldn't look at Mom or Dad, but he turned to look at her. It was a curious look, one of hurt mixed with fear. He had something to say but wouldn't do it in front of Mom and Dad. She had the funny feeling that she wanted to say something to him, though she didn't know what. He left before she could figure it out. In the sanctity of his apartment, Kevin finally returned to normal. He could breathe again without raspy wheezes. His cheeks were no longer red and hot. He unbuttoned the collar of his shirt and flopped down on the sofa. He turned TV on out of habit, but quickly turned it off. He rolled on his side and tried to rest, but something in his pocket was poking his hip. It was his cell phone. Kevin flipped the phone open, prepared to call home and apologize for the way he had left. He flipped through the contacts list, flipped right past Amanda's cute picture and didn't stop until he reached the end of the list. Without thinking he pressed call. A youthful female voice answered after one-and-a-half rings. She didn't say "Hi" or "Hello" or "This is Cassie." She answered by calling out his name, "Kevin?" Her voice registered surprise, but it sounded like she was pleasantly surprised. He paused a moment, stunned by his own boldness. He was not the type of guy who called girls out of the blue. "Yeah, Cassie, it's me. It's been a while, huh?" She giggled a bit and answered, "Yes it has." He could imagine her perfect white teeth smiling just then. He loved it when she smiled and wished he could see her. He gathered his courage for the next question. "Would you like to do something tonight?" He wanted to smack himself for being so stupid; it was almost nine o' clock on a Sunday. "Sure." She answered quickly. "I mean, I have to work tomorrow, but we can hang out and catch up for a little while." Blessings Ch. 02 He sighed, greatly relieved. "I could come over," he offered. She paused to consider the offer but said that she would prefer coming to his place. She must still live at home, he figured. "Great, I really want to see you, Cassie." She giggled again. "I really want to see you, too." The words made his heart soar. The Kevin that went to school on Monday morning was a new man. With Cassie breathing softly beside him his dreams were no longer haunted by Mandy. She had looked so beautiful the night before, arriving at his door wearing a long antique-print dress. A crocheted cardigan draped her slender shoulders, the sleeves not quite reaching the wrists on her long, luxurious arms. Those arms had been wrapped around him for the better part of the night; those slender legs had been, too. As they made love that first time in a long time, he wondered why they had spent so many months apart. They were perfect together. She had rescued him from the pit of despair. He was now happy and focused and in love with someone who wouldn't laugh at him. She was waiting in the apartment when he got home. When they had broken up over the summer he had neglected to ask for his extra apartment key back. He was glad he had. She had changed out of her work clothes, opting to wear his blue quarter-zip sweater and, he hoped, nothing beneath it. The sweater barely covered her butt. A small portion of her powder blue satiny panties could be seen. As pleased as his eyes were, his nose was even more so. As he stepped into the kitchen he was greeted by the aroma of tomato sauce and beef and savory Italian cheeses. "Something smells great," he said, while depositing his messenger bag on the kitchen table. "I'm making lasagna," she said, while smiling radiantly. "I know it's your favorite." "You didn't have to make dinner for me, Cassie." "I know, but I wanted to." She wrapped her long arms around him. "It's all homemade, too. I went to the store and got noodles and hamburger and ricotta. Wait 'til you taste it." "You had work today; why did you go to so much trouble for me?" "Because you're worth it, silly." She kissed his nose. "You deserve better than that awful Hamburger Helper." Kevin touched his nose; it was still warm from the kiss. "I like Hamburger Helper," he said quietly. "That's because you don't know any better." She kissed him again, this time on the mouth. "Do you have very much homework?" He shook his head no. "Good, get cleaned up for dinner. The sooner you eat, the sooner you get dessert." She lowered the sweater zipper seductively. As much as he liked lasagna, Kevin was ready to skip to dessert. The next month went much the same way. He came home to Cassie every night, and every night she treated him better than he deserved. As November rolled around, the time to make holiday plans arrived. They decided to spend Thanksgiving afternoon with his family, and the evening with hers. Mom was thrilled with the news. She eagerly agreed to move the turkey dinner to noon. Dad was excited about Cassie being back in his son's life as well. He felt a sense of pride that perhaps it was somehow his responsibility, that his nudges in the direction of Amanda had somehow sent Kevin back to Cassie. Amanda was the wild card. She liked Cassie as much as anyone, but her relationship with Kevin had been forever changed. After the night on the couch they had only seen one another a few times, and it was always in passing. Sunday movie nights were a memory. Now Kevin's Sundays were spent with Cassie, as were all of his days. He kept waiting for autumn to bare its teeth, but Indian summer persevered right up to Thanksgiving morning. It was sunny and seventy when Kevin's car squeaked to a stop in his parent's driveway. Dad was up on the ladder, trying to hang Christmas lights without killing himself. Kevin volunteered to help, but first he had to hand Cassie off to Mom. Mom absolutely adored Cassie and looked forward to spending the entire morning with her cooking and catching up. Amanda heard the knock on the door but chose to ignore it. Another knock was followed by the turning of the doorknob. Amanda remained in the same position, flat on her back on the bed. She didn't look up to see who her visitor was; she didn't care. "Mandy, aren't you going to come downstairs? Your brother and Cassie are here." Amanda twirled her finger. "Whoop-dee-doo," she said in a monotone. She sat up on the bed, not caring that the blue Old Navy t-shirt she wore had ridden up her belly. "Good God, girl, look at you. Can't you find something nice to wear?" Mom was such a nagger. So she had on a t-shirt and jeans. It's not like Thanksgiving was some special occasion, or Cassidy Zenk was some kind of guest of honor. "I have a lot of things to do, Mom." Like lie here on my bed and wait for everyone to go away. "Could you just call me when it's time to eat?" Mom shrugged her shoulders and sighed. "At least go talk to your brother. You hardly see him anymore." She wanted to shout back And whose fault is that? But Mom had already gone. She missed movie night, and she missed him coming over to raid the fridge and do the laundry. She missed the way he ate her horrible Hamburger Helper and acted like it was the best food in the world. But most of all she missed him, the way he laughed, the way he made her laugh. God, if she hadn't acted like such a slutty tease, maybe he would still come around. She heard a thump on the outside of the house. Peeking out the window, she saw Kevin atop the extension ladder. He was trying to hang the Christmas lights from the gutter clips, a task that would have been much easier had he kept his eyes open. His back and neck were stiff like wood. His left hand had the top rung of the ladder in a death grip. He was terrified of heights, but there he was twenty feet above the ground just to keep Dad from breaking his neck. She smiled, in spite of her melancholy mood. She decided she could be a little more sociable; it was a holiday. Mom and Cassie were in the kitchen chirping along like a couple of bluebirds. They were so much alike, both tall, though Mom was a brunette like Amanda, and they both loved to cook and clean and organize and watch Martha Stewart; it made Amanda sick. Mom sliced into a fat yellow onion, while Cassie chopped ribs of celery. Each woman deposited her chopped vegetables into a sauté pan of melted butter. The wet vegetables crackled a bit as they hit the hot pan. Cassie stirred the pan with a wooden spoon. She waved the spoon at Amanda and offered a phony smile. "Alright," Cassie exclaimed, "another recruit!" She wiped her hands on a dish towel and came over to embrace Amanda. Amanda reluctantly accepted the hug. "Okay, so what do you want to do? How about mashed potatoes?" Cassie asked. Amanda held her arms out and shrugged. "I can make instant potatoes." Mom tisked, and Cassie shook her head negatively. "No, sweetie, our guys are out there risking life and limb to make the holidays brighter. They don't deserve freeze-dried spuds; they deserve the real thing." Cassie tapped her chin as if racking her brain. Did Cassie just call them "Our guys?" Was she officially adopted by Mom or something? "How about the pumpkin pie, can you make crust?" Amanda narrowed her eyes at Cassie. "I don't bake," she said firmly. "Then I think we'll let you handle the cranberry sauce. You do know how to work a can opener, don't you?" Cassie's little jab earned snickers from Mom. Cassie was so lucky that she was the one holding the chef's knife. Amanda opened the pantry and grabbed two cans of jellied cranberry sauce. She opened the cans and theatrically plopped the red jelly onto the fancy serving platter that was supposed to be reserved for carving the turkey. "And they tell me that cooking is hard," she said. She stomped outside, happily ignoring Mom's chastisements. Kevin was still up on the ladder, clinging for dear life. He had resorted to slinging the strands of Christmas lights like a rodeo cowboy hoping to lasso a steer. He was so pathetic. "Kevin, let me do that before you kill yourself." He left the lights dangling from the roof and shakily descended the ladder. "Are you sure you want to?" he asked. His eyes traveled from her to the top of the ladder. He gulped. "Not really," she admitted. "But you're dressed so nice," and he was; he looked exceedingly handsome in a dark argyle sweater and chocolate slacks, "and I'm just wearing jeans and an old shirt." She climbed the first two rungs of the ladder. "Besides, you looked like you would piss your pants if you stayed up there any longer." He made to swat her backside but didn't. She reached the top of the ladder and stretched to gather the dangling strand of lights. She draped the cord over the gutter clips, went to the bottom of the ladder, and had Kevin move the ladder over a few feet so she could drape some more. He was completely silent down there, but she felt his eyes. I've noticed the way he looks at you. That's what Mom had said that night in the bedroom, the night her nonexistent relationship with Kevin had been given their parents' blessings. She knew that he was only watching her with the concern of a big brother, but she couldn't help but imagine what he was thinking. Did he have to fight himself from checking out her butt? She had noticed him looking at her before when she knelt or bent, but she had always figured that it was some kind of automatic reaction by a guy: see a butt, check it out. It had taken close to an hour, but she had just about strung the entire house when Kevin called up to her. "It looks like you have everything under control." Amanda blew the bangs from her eyes in frustration. Men were so alike. First Daddy and now Kevin, they let her do all of the work. There was no way that she would do the entire cleanup. Like she even knew where the light tubs went, or the ladder! "I'm going to see how Cassie's managing dinner." Cassie, oh we wouldn't want her to get lonely. You can ignore your little sister for a month, but you can't leave your slutty girlfriend alone for an hour. Amanda had no idea where her sudden ill-will for Cassie came from. Maybe she never liked her. Nevertheless, she had enjoyed Kevin's attention for the past hour and she was determined to keep it. Suddenly inspired, she stretched her free hand out and purposely hooked her wristwatch with the last gutter clip. She pretended to thrash about. "Kevin, help." "Mandy, what's wrong?" "I'm stuck," she said, rattling the gutter with her wrist. She pretended to have her foot slip. She leaned back on the ladder. Her heart fluttered when she felt the ladder rock. Below, Kevin grabbed the base of the ladder. He wrapped his arms around it, holding it steady. "Stay still, Mandy; I'm coming up to get you." Her acting skills must have been pretty good. Kevin forgot his fear of heights, ascending the ladder surprisingly fast. She felt him beside her. His feet were one rung below hers. His front was pressed to her back. She felt his breath on her neck as he told her not to move. He grabbed her wrist and delicately freed her silver bracelet watch from the gutter hook. She liked being close to him, feeling safe with him. It was like being in his arms at the movies, only more...vertical. "Let's get down," he said. She shook her head. "I have to finish the lights." He took her arm and unlatched her watch. He put the watch in his pants pocket. "I'm going to hold the ladder for you." "I'll bet you are," Amanda said, suddenly emboldened by the adrenaline rush. He asked what she meant by that. "You just like it down there because you can stare at my ass." He tried to protest, but she interrupted. "Don't tell me you haven't been looking." His reluctance to argue was proof that he had. "Just hurry up," he said. As the lights were finished and the tubs put away, Mom and Cassie had finished dinner. The entire family sat at the dining room table. It was a small gathering, just the five of them. As soon as blessings were said, Cassie hijacked the conversation by bragging about how large her family holidays were. She had four brothers and two sisters. All of them were married, except for her, and most had kids. Amanda felt sorry for Kevin. He would be stuck with the entire Zenk brood that evening. I wonder if they're all like Cassie. Yuck! Cassie volunteered to clean the table, but Kevin overruled her. He gathered the plates in his long arms and hauled them to the kitchen. Cassie excused herself and headed for the bathroom. "She's probably making room for dessert," Amanda quipped, while pretending to stick her finger down her throat. "Mandy, don't say those kinds of things about Cassie," Mom said. "Oh, yeah, I'm being way out of line." How did they think Cassie stayed so skinny, good genes? Amanda walked a mile every day and watched what she ate, and still she could never shrink below a size 6. Kevin and Cassie returned to the table at the same time. He pulled the chair out for his emaciated little lovebird. "Alright," Amanda said, "now that we've purged the table of all the dirty dishes, we can cut into that yummy pie." Mom sliced into the pumpkin pie, flashing Amanda a dirty look as she did. Mom handed the first plate to Cassie. "Do you want any whipped cream, sweetie?" Before Bag-of-Bones could answer, Amanda chimed in, "Sure she does. The extra calories are nothing the back of a toothbrush can't take care of." Cassie tried to look nonplussed at Amanda's comments. Kevin looked confused, and Dad just looked shocked. Mom's face gave no indication of how angry she was; her voice did that. "Amanda Crystal Armstrong, I want to have a talk with you upstairs." When Amanda didn't immediately respond her mother's voice grew sterner, "Right now, young lady!" Amanda was twenty; she didn't have to submit to her mother's orders. But she was also practical. She lived with her parents and ate her parents' food. The least she could do was respect their wishes. Mom was already halfway up the stairs when Amanda slowly scooted her chair from the table. She glanced at Cassie, who was staring at the slice of pie on her plate. Amanda apologized for being so rude, and Cassie accepted with a nod. Amanda slowly made her ways up the steps, feeling for all the world like a POW on a forced death march. Mom was in Amanda's room, sitting on her bed, just like the last time they'd had a major talk. Amanda had laughed at her that night. It seemed so ridiculous that she and Kevin would have anything going on. She doubted she would have such a laugh during this talk. Amanda pulled the padded chair from under her desk. She kept a safe distance from her mother. "Why are you behaving so strangely?" she asked. Mom was too much of a mother to ask what was really on her mind: Why are you being such a bitch? "Cassie is a sweet girl, and she makes your brother so happy. What you said to her was so out of line." Amanda started crying, she had no idea why. Maybe she just wanted some maternal sympathy. "Am I fat?" she asked. "I am, aren't I?" The question surprised them both. "Baby, what...?" Mom held open her arms. Mandy went to the bed and allowed her mother to hug her. "Why would you think such a thing? You're beautiful, the prettiest girl I know." "Then why did you think that Kevin and I were doing it together? You and Daddy thought I was so pathetic that I had to sleep with my own brother." "Oh, baby, it wasn't like that at all. It's just, the two of you weren't dating very much." Amanda sobbed as her mother explained. "And, well, we noticed the way that you looked at each other." Those were the words she wanted to hear. Though they weren't very comforting, they gave her the most incredible tingling sensation. She realized she had goosebumps. "Look, you're a wonderful girl, and Kevin's very handsome and very sweet, and he's always been just crazy about you. We thought you deserved someone like him." Mom stroked the back of Amanda's head; she ran her fingers through the long brown hair. The tears came faster now. Amanda felt her nose start to trickle. She finally figured out what was wrong with her. "It's not fair that Cassie has Kevin and I don't have anyone." She worded that awkwardly. She wiped her right eye; it itched so badly. "You'll find someone," Mom assured. She touched Amanda's cheeks and brushed away the tears. "And he'll be absolutely wonderful." Yeah, Mandy thought, but will he be handsome, sweet, and crazy about me? * To be continued... Blessings Ch. 03 As always, many thanks to chargergirl for her support and for her expert eye. And, oh yeah, don't forget to vote and/or comment. I'd love to know what you think. * Amanda agreed to clean the dishes as penance for her behavior towards Cassie. She snuck down the stairs, careful to avoid the Norman Rockwell Thanksgiving in the dining room, and slipped into the kitchen. The kitchen counter looked like an architectural model, the city of the future. She assessed the stacks of baking dishes, plates, bowls, and coffee cups. She glanced at the still dishwasher and sighed. Mom would have a coronary if anyone tried to put her good china and silver in there. Everything would have to be washed by hand. And there was a lot to wash. How could four normal-sized people and an anorexic have dirtied so many dishes? Amanda reprimanded herself. Cassie was not an anorexic. She had to relinquish this grudge that had popped up so suddenly against her brother's girlfriend. Cassie was a nice girl. Kevin was lucky to have someone so nice. He deserved nice. She grabbed a crusty plate and sunk it in the hot, soapy dishwater. She scrubbed the plate with a barely there dish rag. Mom and Dad really need new kitchen linens, she thought. She made a mental note for Christmastime. Rags and towels made for cheap gifts. The work was wet and messy, but it got her mind off of everything that had been bugging her. By the time Amanda reached the dirty casserole dishes she was whistling without even thinking. "Hey, that's from Snow White," a voice said. The intrusion nearly startled Amanda to death. It was Cassie. Amanda's mood didn't just sour, it curdled. Yet she forced herself to smile and to apologize to Cassie once more. Once more Cassie graciously accepted. "'Whistle While You Work' is such a fun song. You know," she said, picking up a tea towel, "Snow White was always my favorite princess." She started humming something, a song Amanda vaguely remembered from the Snow White movie, as she began drying the silverware. Cassie's giggling stopped the humming. "Someday my prince will come; I guess my prince has already come." Amanda raised her eyebrow at the double entendre. "So who was your favorite?" Cassie asked. Amanda had no idea what she was talking about. "Disney princess," she clarified, "who was your favorite?" "I really never identified with drawings," Amanda said. "You never watched Disney movies?" Cassie asked. She dried another fork, making sure that it was completely spot-free. Of course Amanda had watched Disney movies; what girl hadn't? She slipped the largest casserole into the sink. The water was pretty grimy by then, but someone had forgotten to grease the dish, and it needed to soak. She scraped her thumbnail across the submerged dish. The macaroni and cheese was baked on pretty hard. Amanda imagined that it was Cassie who had forgotten to spray oil on the casserole and not her absentminded mother. It gave her no small amount of pleasure to believe that little Miss Perfect wasn't so perfect. "So you must have had a favorite. Was it Cinderella?" Amanda crinkled her nose. Cinderella was such a bimbo. She had to have birds and rats do her sewing. "How about Sleeping Beauty?" Sleeping Beauty was a drunk who was too hung over to get out of bed. Amanda found it disconcerting that Cassie's first two guesses were dumb blondes like her. Cassie rattled off Pocahontas, Ariel, and Mulan, to which Amanda replied, "Two-timer, fish vagina, and bull dyke." Cassie laughed at Amanda's quick retort. Amanda fished a scouring pad out of the cabinet and began scraping the casserole. Flecks of burned cheese and noodles floated to the surface of the greasy dishwater. "Beauty was my favorite," she found herself admitting. "Belle from Beauty and the Beast, you mean?" Cassie asked, to which Amanda nodded. She hadn't meant to share that piece of information. Cassie put her hands on her skinny hips and pretended to evaluate Amanda. "Hmm, let's see, Belle has brown hair and brown eyes; she's kind of quiet but kind of headstrong. She definitely reminds me of someone." Amanda didn't respond. She'd been nice enough to Cassie for one day. Despite the cold shoulder, Cassie continued, "Maybe you'll be like Belle, then. Maybe you'll find your prince in the place you least expect." Amanda felt her ears grow hot. She wanted to be away from Cassie, but the damned casserole dish just wouldn't come clean. At that moment, Kevin arrived, twirling his car keys on his index finger. "There you are," he said. "We better get going if we want to make it to your folks' in time." "Crud, it's late," Cassie said, checking the clock on the microwave. "I was having such a good time." She folded the towel into a perfect square and laid it on the counter. She gave Amanda an uncomfortable hug and an even more uncomfortable kiss on the cheek. "Bye Mandy!" Amanda shuddered when Cassie called her that. Cassie gave Kevin a nauseatingly long kiss. When it was over they both grinned dumbly. "Let me get my purse, and I want to say goodbye to Jim and Anne." She touched his nose and sauntered off. The siblings stood in uncomfortable silence for a while. Finally, Kevin spoke, "It's been a long day." She just frowned and said, "Tell me about it." She went back to scouring the casserole dish. "Dinner was great," he said. She agreed. Mom and Cassie certainly knew their way around the kitchen; she just wished they didn't have to be so annoying. "The cranberry sauce was my favorite." His words made her flush. The canned cranberry sauce was her very modest contribution to the dinner. He was a dope, with awful taste in women, but a sweet dope nonetheless. Her eyes remained trained on the sink. She wondered where his eyes were. Were they studying her backside? The pantry door squeaked open, proving they were not. She chanced a peek. He was gathering a stack of Rubbermaid containers, something to freeze leftovers in. He opened the refrigerator and studied the contents. "We are going to have leftovers forever," he said. "Take some with you," Amanda suggested. "I can only take so much of Mom's turkey chili." She remembered last year with a shudder: Mom had made turkey chili twice a week from Thanksgiving to Christmas. "Oh God, no." He patted his belly. "I don't even want to think about leftovers. I still have one more dinner to go. "And if you think Mom goes all out, you should hear some of the horror stories Cassie has told me about her mother's Thanksgivings." Amanda forced a chuckle. She hated thinking about perfect skinny Cassie's perfect skinny mother even more than she hated thinking about perfect skinny Cassie. She wanted to talk about something non-Cassie related. "I'm thinking about enrolling at your college." His face brightened at the revelation. He knew she liked working at the vet's, but he was always telling her she could do more than just bathe and groom. She should be a veterinarian herself, he often suggested. She wasn't quite so ambitious. For now she was concentrating on becoming a veterinarian's assistant. "We should get together this weekend. I can help you pick out classes for spring. There are some professors I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy." His words made her indescribably happy. "How about Sunday?" she suggested. "I could bring the course catalog. Maybe we could get something to eat and catch that movie one last time before it hits the dollar show?" "That sounds good, Mandy... uh, Amanda. Sorry." He knew she didn't like people to call her Mandy anymore. She thought it sounded childish. But for some reason, she didn't mind so much when he did it. Cassie returned at that moment. She wormed her way under Kevin's arm and held his waist. Mandy smirked knowingly. Enjoy him while you can, beanpole, she thought darkly, because Sunday he's all mine. Amanda worked Friday, but it was only half a day. When she got home her back was still sore from wrestling an Irish Setter on the grooming table. Normally, she would have spent the remainder of the day after Thanksgiving putting up the Christmas decorations, but she was so sore and didn't feel like lugging the heavy tubs up from the basement. Mom and Dad were out doing the Black Friday thing. Fighting the sea of bargain hunters held little appeal for her. She would do her shopping midweek, when the crowds were a tad more manageable. She sighed and wished Kevin was there. He always helped. He loved Christmas as much as she did. He would come over to help decorate even after he moved out. Not this year. He and Cassie were out shopping for her disgustingly huge family. Cassie had siblings, nephews, and nieces out the wazoo, so they needed to take advantage of the bargains. She felt sorry for Kevin. She knew he got kind of nervous in big crowds. She hoped he remembered to put on deodorant and to wear a dark shirt. She felt a compulsion to call him, to see how he was, and to make sure they were still on for Sunday, but she didn't. How horrible would it have been if Cassie answered? Instead, she puttered around the house for a while. She cleaned her closet and drawers, making room for the flood of new clothes she hoped to get for Christmas. She discarded the old clothes in a lawn and leaf bag; they would be donated to Goodwill, eventually. She went to the kitchen to heat a bowl of turkey chili in the microwave. She pulled the magnetic notepad and pen from the refrigerator and sat at the table. She jotted down some gift ideas. Mom and Dad would get towels, lots and lots of towels. In addition, she wanted to buy Mom a new pair of sneakers, the pair she had now was getting pretty disgusting. Dad could use a new rod and reel; he'd dropped two in the lake over the summer. She wondered if they made fishing rods that floated. She would check Bass Pro Shops for that. She jotted down gift cards for a few of her friends. She wanted to buy a toy for her friend Martha's new baby girl. That left Kevin. He would be tough to buy for. It's not that he is hard to please (he always seemed to appreciate her gifts); it's just that she wanted to give him something he really wanted this year, something so perfect that not even Cassie could give it to him. She put a trio of question marks by his name. Damn it, she forgot about Cassie. Was she supposed to buy Cassie something? Amanda tried to remember if she had ever bought anything for any of Kevin's girlfriends. She hadn't, but he had never been as serious about them as he was with Cassie. Her instincts told her to not bother, but she just knew that Cassie would buy her something really nice, and then she would look like a total Scrooge for not giving anything in return. God, she hated that girl. She jotted down McDonalds gift certificate next to Cassie's name and smiled wickedly. Sunday arrived at last. Amanda was in a haze for most of the day. She was so incredibly happy, a condition her parents were very pleased to see. She didn't even complain when she went downstairs for lunch and smelled another pot of turkey chili simmering on the stove. She politely declined the bowl of chili her mother offered, opting instead for a granola bar and an orange. She wasn't on a diet; she was just too excited to eat. Kevin called around four. The background noise on his cell phone revealed that he was already at the mall. He was alone, thank goodness, putting the final touches on his shopping. He asked if she could meet him there around six. She readily agreed. He reminded her to bring the course catalog along. They would study it at dinner. He finished the conversation by saying that he really wanted to see her. Amanda's heart fluttered as she put the phone on the cradle. She wanted to see him even more. She hated Cassie so much for what she'd done. He was her big brother. Cassie had no right keeping them apart. Amanda checked the clock on her desk. She had almost two hours before she had to meet Kevin at the food court. She slipped on a pair of canvas tennis shoes and threw the yellow zip-up cardigan over her shoulders. She would head to the mall early. Maybe they would bump into one another and do some shopping together. It couldn't hurt to try. She bounced downstairs and found herself in the kitchen. "Bye, Mom, I'm off to see Kevin." She hugged her mother hard. "Oh, so that explains the sudden change in attitude," her mother said. "Don't be out too late. You're brother has school in the morning." Amanda nodded. She was about to leave when a question popped into her head. "Mom, did you really mean it?" she asked. Mom folded her arms. "Mean what, Mandy?" Amanda ignored the use of her childish nickname. "Did you mean what you told me that night in my room?" She couldn't help herself. It was stupid to open this old wound, but she had to know. "You really wouldn't care if Kevin and I..." She couldn't figure out how to word it: if we dated, if we fucked, if we were in love. "I just wanted you to be happy," was Mom's innocuous answer. "Does the offer still stand?" she asked, clenching her teeth and wincing. "Yes, but I don't think Kev---" Amanda didn't let her finish. She practically shouted, "Bye, Mom!" and headed for the mall. It took a good twenty minutes to find a parking space. And then she had to walk forever to the mall entrance. The weather remained unseasonably warm. The walk made her sweat. She felt the fabric of the t-shirt cling to her back. The mall was normally quiet this late on a Sunday, but since it was Thanksgiving weekend it was bustling with activity. She elbowed past a group of loitering teenagers. The boys all leered. A saxophone player stood just inside the door. He played Christmas tunes, while shoppers came up and deposited loose change and dollar bills into his Salvation Army kettle. Amanda reached in her purse and pulled out a dollar. She slipped it in the kettle, and the sax player gave her a gracious wink as he started playing "O Little Town of Bethlehem." She surveyed the crowds. It was like watching a human ant farm. People streamed from one store to the next, following the chemical trails that would lead to the next bargain. She didn't see Kevin, of course. Not even he would stand out in this crowd. She thought about calling him to meet up. No, she decided, he told her to meet him in the food court at six. She didn't want to look desperate. If they happened to bump into one another before then and hook up, that was a different matter. She found the escalator and headed downstairs. Her first destination was the department store. Sears had a white sale, so she loaded up on every kind of towel imaginable. She got bath towels, hand towels, kitchen towels, and an armful of dishrags. Her purchases filled an entire shopping bag. Mom and Dad would have enough towels to last until retirement. She bought a stack of gift cards for her friends and some decent walking shoes for Mom. She looked at tools, for Kevin, but couldn't imagine what he would need in that tiny apartment of his. She browsed the men's clothing department. She saw some shirts that she thought he'd look handsome in, but they didn't come in tall sizes. Besides, she didn't want to get him something as impersonal as a dress shirt. Her debit card was practically smoking by the time she was finished, but at least a large chunk of her shopping was finished. She walked to the Bass Pro Shops and bought Dad a new baitcasting reel and a rod. The nice old salesman had helped her pick it out. It wasn't too cheap, but it wasn't too expensive. She also found some foam floats that could be fastened on to Dad's new rod, should he ever drop it in the lake. Again, she looked for something that Kevin would like. He wasn't a fisherman like Dad, but he did enjoy the outdoors. He and his buddies used to do a lot of camping and hiking. She thought about getting him some new hiking shoes, but, again, that just didn't seem right. Next she stopped at the toy store. She felt pretty proud after she emerged with a lullaby-singing stuffed bear for her friend Martha's new baby. She had managed to buy everyone on her list a gift. Everyone except Kevin. The bags were pretty heavy, but she managed to drag them along. Two windows down from the toy store she passed the lingerie store. Seeing the scantily dressed mannequins in the window displays reminded her that she needed some new underwear, and probably some bras, too. She thought about going in, but decided against it. She could find more affordable options and a less trashy setting at the Gap. She browsed the cashmere sweaters meticulously folded at the Gap's entrance. A sign proclaimed half off. They were beautiful, but even at half off they cost a fortune. She decided to pass. She worked her way back to the intimates. The bra selection was pitiful, but after a bit of weeding, she found a 34C t-shirt bra. The panties were in better supply. She passed on the bikini and teeny bikini panties, and didn't even look at the thongs. She settled for a pair of heather gray high cut panties. She needed more but figured she shouldn't be shopping for herself. She wandered over to sleepwear. The nightgowns drew her attention, one in particular. It was black and trimmed with lace. The neckline was cut low, and the hem fell just past the hip. It wasn't as overtly sexual as the lingerie she'd seen in the Victoria's Secret window. But it was sleek and feminine, and unlike anything she had ever owned. She had always been content to wear oversized t-shirts to bed. When it got cold, she would add flannel pajama pants to keep her legs warm. She touched the lacy bodice with her fingers. She wondered what she would look like in it. The mannequin that it was displayed on was tall and slender. Amanda was petite and curvy. Would the sexiness translate to her figure? Maybe the fact that she had boobs and hips would make the nightgown look even better on her. No, she was being stupid. She didn't need to look sexy. She had no one to look sexy for. She imagined what Mom and Dad would say if she came down for breakfast some Sunday morning wearing that! And poor Kevin, he'd pitch a tent in his pajamas so fast that it would put an Eagle Scout to shame. That was an intriguing thought. She felt the laciness again and wondered if Kevin got turned on by stuff like this. She imagined wearing it for him. That could be his Christmas gift, she thought. Some guys get silk ties wrapped in glittery gold paper; he'd get a pair of 34Cs wrapped in black lace. Not a bad deal, altogether, she figured. She knew it was stupid. She knew Kevin would never see her in it; she would probably bury it in the deep recesses of her closet and forget about it. But she bought the nightgown anyway. When the saleslady handed her the bag and receipt, she buried both in the largest shopping bag, beneath a mound of towels. She went to the food court and found an empty table by the Chinese Express. She set the bags down and sighed in relief. The handle of the bag was cutting into her palm. She blew on her sore hand and waited patiently for Kevin. She checked her watch. It was a few ticks past six. A touch on her shoulder alerted her to his presence. Kevin had several bags of his own, though not the enormous load that she had. "Wow," he said, surveying her two enormous shopping bags. "Someone's been busy." He laid his bags next to hers. "I'll get the food if you watch the booty." She wanted to make a remark about how he was the one who liked watching "booties," but she refrained. She didn't want to scare him off. "What do you want?" he asked. Amanda thought for a moment. Usually she blurted out burgers or pizza, but she was in the mood for something more exotic. Mexican didn't sound very appetizing. Neither did Japanese. Since they were so close to the Chinese stand, and it seemed to be the least crowded, she settled on that. She asked for orange chicken and chow mein noodles. Kevin nodded and promised to return. She watched him move through the line. He seemed to be moving kind of strangely. When he got the tray of food and paid, she noticed that he favored his right leg. She was so afraid that he would spill the sodas all over himself. Blessings Ch. 03 "What's the matter with your leg?" she asked, once he had taken his seat across from her. "Oh, I hurt my knee at the gym," he said. She didn't like to hear that. In high school he had had two knee surgeries to repair football injuries. "Since when do you go to the gym?" He explained that Cassie had been dragging him to her gym ever since they'd gotten back together. "She wants me to lose some of the flab." He pinched his belly through his sweater. She wanted to laugh; instead, she stabbed at a piece of chicken with her disposable fork. The plastic tines had trouble piercing the crispy, gooey coating. Kevin might not have been buff, but he was far from flabby. "Have you seen the doctor?" He slurped a noodle. "It's not serious. It's just a little sore. I would know if it was serious." He sipped his diet soda. When he set the soda down she reached across the table and touched his hand. "Stay away from the gym for a couple of weeks," she said, "please." The last thing she wanted was to see him go through another operation and all of that grueling physical therapy. He touched her hand and nodded. His eyes were not on hers. They were shyly alternating between his half-eaten dinner and her chest. She didn't mind him looking. She had worn the snug sweater for him. "See a doctor if it's not better after Christmas." He mumbled that he would through a mouthful of noodles. "Have you picked out any classes?" he asked, changing the subject. "Yeah, a few." She reached into her purse and retrieved the rolled up college spring course catalog and the ink pen she had stuffed in there. She opened the book to the Associates degree program. "I was thinking about English 101, and Biology." They were both required credits. She figured eight hours of class was a good way to start. She could always add more in the fall. He scooted his chair to the side of the table, closer to her. Their legs touched under the table. "Those are definitely good choices," he said. His approval made her heart flutter. "For English, definitely take the re-entry course. It's one extra credit hour, so that's good, but you also learn a ton about critical thinking, note taking, and time management. Okay, now for Biology avoid Mr. Vagar. He's the funniest, friendliest guy you'd ever meet, but he's from Iceland, and no one can understand a word he says." He flipped through the catalog. He pointed at a class. "Take Ms. Henderson for Biology. She's all about the lab work, no homework and no tests." Amanda took the pen and circled the class he suggested. She rested her chin on her fist and watched him flip through the book. He was so much older than her, five years. Physically, she couldn't really see it. He had a young face, with boyish good looks. His age showed in experience. He had braved these same scholastic waters before she ever thought of leaving the dock. His eyes were blue, serenely so, and deep set. He hardly ever opened them all the way; what was the word Mom used to describe them? Sleepy. He opened them wide when he was excited, though. He had them open now as he explained what his first semester had been like. He had taken twelve hours of classes, the same as a full-time student, not a good idea for a full-time worker. After the first hectic week he had dropped every class but one. She was suddenly nervous about her eight—no, make it nine hours of class. Would she have enough time to do all of the work? He sensed her apprehension and assured her that she would do fine. She only worked four days a week at the veterinarian. She'd have plenty of time. Time? She looked at her watch and frowned. It was getting late. The movie had probably already started. She wolfed down the rest of her dinner, as he did the same. She stuffed the catalogue in her purse, along with the two fortune cookies. She was weighted down by shopping bags, and Kevin moved slowly with his sore knee. But they made it to the theater relatively quick. Fortunately, Kevin had already bought the tickets, so they avoided the line at the box office. The viewing public must have had their fill of galactic strife, because even after they had taken bathroom breaks and stopped for candy, the theater was practically empty. There was a family in the third row, a balding father, chubby mother, and two rambunctious little boys, but no one else. Kevin took her by the hand, pulling her up the steps to the back row. She put her bags on one seat, and he put his bags on another. They sat between. The previews had just ended, and the 20th Century Fox logo flashed across the screen. The title credits rolled, and were followed by the long-awaited first appearance of the main character, the man Kevin had dubbed Diarrhea Face. Amanda snuggled into his side and sighed contentedly. Up your bony butt Cassie, I get him for three more hours, she thought. His right arm draped over her shoulder; his left hand rested on her thigh. She looked at him inquisitively. He apologized and broke their contact. She sighed and leaned back in the seat, frustrated. She opened her purse and grabbed the box of Red Hots she had bought at the snack counter while Kevin was in the restroom. He heard the rattle of the candy box and held out his palm without looking. She poured several of the red, chewy candies into his hand. He promptly dumped them into his mouth. Kevin's back straightened, and his mouth opened wide. He slowly chewed and swallowed, all the while stomping his uninjured leg on the hard floor. He must have thought she had bought the usual Milk Duds or jelly beans. She laughed as he wiped the moisture from his eyes and nose. "Oh, you think that's funny, little girl?" he asked, between coughs. He grabbed the box of candy from her lap with one hand and caught her chin with the other. He forced her head back against the headrest. She giggled through clenched teeth. He tilted the box, ready to dump the contents in her mouth. Both of his hands were occupied; she saw her chance to counterattack. Her fingernails found his ribcage. Even through the thick navy sweater her strategy proved effective. He was ticklish, incredibly ticklish, and she knew it. He begged her to stop. The candy box fell from his grip and landed on the seat between his legs. She smothered her face with his chest to stifle her laughter. He called truce, and she ceased the offensive. She took the box of candy from between his legs. The box was warmer than it had been a moment ago. He watched her pitch a handful of candy into her mouth. Then he watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, then her mouth. She loved it when he looked at her. "What's the matter, Big Brother, don't like hot candy?" He shifted his long legs a bit, angling his body towards her. "I was kind of in the mood for something sweet," he said. "Oh," she said, just before gaining the gumption to kiss him. Amanda closed her eyes. His lips were warm and cinnamony; hers probably were too. She opened her lips at the first probing of his tongue. She felt his fingers on her sweater, near the zipper. He grabbed the little brass zipper and tugged lightly. The zipper lowered slowly. He was no longer kissing her. He was watching his hands, watching the zipper lower, watching the yellow sweater part. He gasped when he saw her full breasts encased in only a t-shirt and a bra. He moved to touch her, but his hands stopped short. She groaned, frustrated by his hesitation. "Mandy, we can't," he said. She could see his hands trembling before him, could see the growing bulge in his jeans. He wanted her as much as she wanted him, but he was too stubborn. "We can," she said. She got to her knees and straddled his lap, recreating their position on the couch so many weeks ago. She pressed her chest to him, mashing her breasts to his body. The contact stimulated her already hard nipples. She wished she had forgone the bra. "Kevin," she said, reveling in his devouring look, "I think I'm in love with you." Her words caused a sharp intake of breath. She didn't know if it had come from him or her. She was so shocked at the admission. His hands found her legs and rested behind her knees. Slowly, they climbed upwards, grazing her thighs, resting on her butt. He squeezed her, and they both groaned. She lowered the zipper on his sweater. He had a t-shirt on under it. She kissed the base of his neck, kissed his Adam's apple, kissed his chin. Despite his firm grip on her butt, he squirmed to avoid her kisses. "Mandy, stop it!" he said, raising his voice. Her lower lip extended in a pout. "You don't want me?" It was a ridiculous question. The erection she ground her crotch on was proof that he wanted her. He avoided her gaze, concentrating instead on the shopping bags in the seat next to him. She traced little heart symbols on his chest and blew into his ear as he dug through one of the bags. He pulled out a smaller bag, a black bag unadorned with corporate logos. He turned the small bag over and a little velvet box slid out. Amanda's hopes died in that instant. The sting of tears hazed her vision. She oozed off of his lap, depositing herself in her own seat. "I'm going to ask Cassie to marry me." He confirmed what she had already guessed. "It's going to be a Christmas surprise." It was a surprise to Amanda. She felt so incredibly stupid. He fumbled with the velvet box, trying to open it. She didn't want to see the ring. She could not have handled it. With her body trembling and her head spinning, she ran out of the theater. She forgot about the movie, forgot about her shopping bags. She forgot about everything except for that little velvet box and the stupid confession she had made to Kevin: "I think I'm in love with you." To be concluded... Blessings Ch. 04 As always, thanks to chargergirl for her support and for her expert eye. I hope you enjoy this, the final chapter of "Blessings." Don't forget to vote and/or comment at the end of the story. I'd love to know what you think. * It was only fitting that the temperatures valleyed the week following Thanksgiving. No matter how far the mercury dropped or how much she remained indoors, Amanda couldn't have felt any colder or any more isolated than she already did. She allowed herself only brief respites from the gloom and doom of a broken heart. When Mom and Dad were away she would pad downstairs to look at the tree and the lights. She hadn't done any of the decorating. She had left it up to her parents this year. For the first time in her life, the Christmas spirit had completely eluded her. What was Christmas, anyway? It was a time for children. She wasn't a child, and she had no children of her own. Christmas was pointless, and she hated it. She hated the tree and the lights. She regarded the four red felt stockings nailed to the mantel: Dad, Mom, Kevin, and Amanda. Would Mom hang a new stocking for Cassie next year? The idea nauseated Amanda, almost as much as the idea of the tiny stockings that would eventually follow. The following weekend Mom cornered her into helping wrap gifts. She couldn't say no, no matter how badly she wanted to sulk all weekend. They sat at the dining room table. There was plenty of room for two. It was nice to take her mind off of Kevin and his lame girlfriend for a while. Mom had a million friends, and so they had plenty of work to keep them occupied. They were down to the family's gifts when Amanda unfurled a roll of red glittery paper. Mom handed her a department store box. Amanda peeked inside to see a pair of expensive jeans. She smiled appreciatively. New jeans were at the top of her list. She neatly wrapped the package. Mom handed her the gift tag. It was made out to Cassie. Amanda's already meager Christmas spirit shrunk to Tiny Tim-like proportions. "How could you be so dumb," she asked her mother. Mom's glasses slipped from her nose. She caught them before they smashed against the table. She eyed her daughter curiously. "He doesn't like me that way. He never did." She thought of the way Kevin used to look at her and frowned. He was just a guy. Guys looked at girls' butts when they bent over, and they looked at girls' boobs when they wore tight sweaters, whether they were sisters or not. That was just the way guys were programmed. She rested her head on her arms and sighed. She had kissed him in the back of that dark theater. She had practically humped his lap and told him that she loved him. "People are wrong sometimes," Mom said. She tore a small, perfect square of Scotch tape and secured the end flap of a present. "I think about him all the time, now." She admitted. "I think about how he treats me better than any guy ever has. I think about the stupid faces he makes and the stupid things he says just to make me laugh. And I think about how pretty his eyes look when he wears that old blue sweater and the way he smiles without showing all of his teeth." "Yeah, Kevin's a good looking guy." She started to wrap another package. Her nonchalance was driving Amanda mad. "Can't you say anything constructive? Everything was fine before you opened your fucking mouth!" She never cussed in front of her mother; it just wasn't done. "I didn't love him before--- I did but not like this. I don't know what to do." Amanda felt moisture around her eyes. "He loves Cassie, and he'll never love me. I feel so lost." Mom looked up from the wrappings. She exhaled slowly. "I'm your mom, I should have volumes of romantic advice, but I don't. You and your brother are just..." She waved her hands, grasping for the right thing to say. "Doctor Spock never covered this type of thing in his books. Your dad and I just kind of winged it. We were wrong, so I'm sorry." Amanda wiped her nose with her forearm. "When you thought we were together, did it make you happy?" "Cassie makes him happy, so that makes me happy." She couldn't listen to it anymore. She couldn't. She hated Cassie; it was so wrong the way she hated her. Amanda retreated to her room and locked the door. She felt cold and reached into the closet for a spare blanket. The presents were still in there, a pile of bags regurgitating their contents onto the closet floor. She had left the theater in a huff, forgetting the enormous bags that were the fruits of her Christmas shopping. Kevin had been nice enough to bring them by the next day after his classes. She kicked at the bags, spraying the towels and washrags she had bought her mother. She picked at the mess, re-gathering the linens. Her hand touched a piece of lacy blackness. It was the nightgown she had bought, the slinky, sexy, uncharacteristically feminine black lace nightgown she had hoped to wear for Kevin. She caught a tear with her wrist. She folded the nightgown in half and shoved it far back into the closet. She shredded the receipt with her trembling fingers. She didn't have the gumption to return it. She would keep it buried in her closet, like a secret. It would remind her of how pathetic she had become. Kevin wrapped himself tightly in a blanket cocoon. He stretched his feet and thrust them beneath one of the oversized throw pillows, leaning on the arm of the sofa. The gas in his apartment complex had been off for more than a day. Despite wearing his heavy coat and wool socks, and staying beneath three layers of blankets, he had almost frozen solid the night before. He couldn't go through that again, not on Christmas Eve. The complex maintenance man had said that there was a gas leak. The gas company was working hard to find the leak, but it might take a day or two to fix it. So that was how Kevin ended up on his parent's sofa. The central heating felt good enough, but Dad had lit a fire in the fireplace to make him even more comfortable. The foot traffic going through the living room interrupted his naps, but he didn't mind so much. He had never realized how much he missed living at home. Oh, he liked the independence and privacy that came with his own place, but sometimes that tiny apartment could feel awfully big. He missed noises that didn't come through strangers' walls. He missed the smell of Mom's cooking drifting up to his room, a tempting mélange of sweet and savory things. He missed Mandy most of all. He missed drinking from the milk carton just to get a rise from her; he missed sitting across the breakfast table from her, watching her crinkle her nose as she browsed the morning paper. More than anything, he missed the late nights spent on her bed, watching old movies and talking about any number of things. That's why he liked having Cassie around so much. When he drifted to sleep, his nose pressed against her untamable mane of blonde curls, he didn't feel so alone. He wondered how long it had been since he told Cassie he loved her and he needed her. Had he ever done it? He would the next day. He had planned everything out. They would spend Christmas at the Zenk household. She would once more "show him off" in front of her sisters and brothers and cousins. Cassie often felt embarrassed around her family. She was the youngest and the only one not married. That would change. He would give Cassie her gift that evening in front of everyone. He would propose to her in front of the entire clan as they sat down for the turkey dinner. No, he might wait until after dinner. That would make dessert even sweeter. It was with visions of his sweet Cassie putting his ring on her finger and her tongue in his mouth in front of her entire family that Kevin dozed off on the couch. He heard footsteps over the crackle of the fireplace and snorted awake. "God, I don't remember you being such a light sleeper," Amanda said, hopping the final step down. "I didn't want to bug you." Kevin sat up and cleared the blankets, making a space for her on the sofa. She ignored the gesture and went to the kitchen. She had avoided him ever since he showed up on the doorstep that morning. They hadn't talked since the movie, unfortunate, because they really needed to talk. Kevin padded to the kitchen. He slipped past the glowing Christmas tree, tracking a few fallen pine needles with his socks. "Hey," he said, causing her to jump. She offered a tentative hello and opened up the refrigerator. She grabbed a carton of eggnog and poured some into a small juice glass. "Can I have some?" he asked. She poured a second glass. He raised his little plastic glass in a mock toast and drank the entire glass in one gulp. Amanda delicately sipped at hers. "I don't want to talk," she said. She reached for the cookie tin Mom had hidden on top of the refrigerator. Even on tippy-toes she was too short. Kevin reached over the top of her and grabbed the tin. He set it on the counter. "Thanks," she said, removing the lid. Mom made the best Christmas cookies. Especially tasty were the pink and white sugar cookies that she twisted like candy canes. They never made it to Christmas. That's why Mom always kept them up high. Poor Mom, Kevin thought, no matter how old I get, to her I'll always be the little boy who's afraid to climb a chair. Amanda handed him a cookie without him asking. She practically dropped it in his outstretched hand, as if she was afraid to make contact. He had to say something, had to tell her that what they had done was wrong. But he didn't. He remembered dinner in the food court and how lovely she had looked. He remembered touching her legs and her incredible butt and wondering why he had waited so long. Most of all he remembered the kiss. He remembered her warm, cinnamon lips and the taste of her mouth. He remembered giving in, if only for a moment, to the primal urges he had resisted for so many years. Even now, as he watched her nibble the cookie and watched her brush a pink crumb from her succulent lips, he felt the urge to take her in his arms. Why not? He asked himself. Amanda's a woman, a beautiful, warm, passionate woman. She had laughed at him once, laughed at the thought of them together. But he realized now that she was not making fun of him. She was confused by the idea, maybe intrigued, but she was not making fun of him. She was trying to make sense of her own feelings. People laugh at strange times. He remembered when Carl got hurt at work. He had stepped off of the forklift truck just the right way and tore his knee to pieces. As the ambulance came to whisk him away a few of the guys laughed. Some laughed because they were scared; some laughed because they were glad it wasn't them. Yet others laughed because it was so wrong and inappropriate that they couldn't stop themselves. People laugh; they just do. He wanted to grab her, to kiss her. He wanted to make her laugh at him, laugh with him. It was so ridiculous that something so right and so perfect was ignored for years. Why not? He knew, of course, that he couldn't. Cassie was his "why not." He wondered if he'd made a mistake. It was Christmas Eve, and he wanted to be with Cassie. Even if it meant he had to survive a full twenty-four hours of Zenk family festivities, he wanted to be anywhere but standing in that kitchen, watching Amanda opening the tin for a second cookie. They would have so many Christmases together, he and Cassie. Maybe they would get married next Christmas. He pictured the snow falling outside of the chapel they'd rent. He pictured Cassie's lean, long body draped in a virginal-white gown. He pictured pine trees and holly wreaths, long arms wrapped around his body by the fire. He thought of blanketed hills, glistening white, and the tall, skinny children he would pull in a toboggan. He thought of all that and sighed and wondered if it was what he really wanted. He would have been sure that it was had he been standing anywhere else and watching anyone else eat cookies. She ran her hands under the faucet and then wiped them on her jeans, leaving wet blue streaks. He took the tin and put it back on the refrigerator. It was lighter without the candy cane cookies. As he tucked the tin behind the banana tree, he had a strange realization: if he had a tall wife and tall children, he would never have to reach the cookies for them. Amanda made to leave, but he caught her arm. "We need to talk," he said. She didn't answer. She just looked at his fingers wrapped around the sleeve of her yellow sweater. He guided her to the sofa, pulling the blankets to the floor. They just sat next to one another for a while. Kevin felt like such an idiot. They needed to talk, but he had no idea what to say. "I didn't have any right." She spoke first, calmly and without tears. She had rehearsed the things she wanted to say to him. "You're so sweet and good. And you would never hurt Cassie. So I shouldn't have come on to you. I'm sorry for being such a slut." Kevin stared at the tree for a moment, transfixed by the twinkling lights. "I better go," she said, rising from the sofa. He caught her arm again. She slowly sat back down. "I got you something." He knelt in front of the tree and dug through the packages. He extracted a flat shirt box wrapped in metallic red paper and placed it on her lap. "No, I can't," she said, turning the box over, moving it around to hear the contents shift inside. "It's not Christmas." "It's close enough," he said. "Besides, I kind of wanted to give this to you in private." The parents had gone to Dad's office party. They wouldn't be back until evening. They would never again have so much privacy. "Open it." She worked at the wrappings, daintily peeling each individual square of tape. It was an annoying habit of hers. "Rip that sucker open," he teased. She grabbed a loose flap of paper and smiled wickedly. The paper tore with a satisfying whisk. She opened the white department store box and studied the contents. He had taken a chance. She had so many sweaters, but this one was different. He had been shopping for Cassie when he saw it. The lilac cashmere was so soft and delicate. It felt good and smelled good, and it reminded him so much of Amanda. He wanted to see her in it. He wanted to feel the contours of her back and shoulders through the powdery soft material. He wanted her to slip it over her shoulders on chilly mornings and think of him. "Oh Kevin," she pulled it out of the box and draped it over her chest, checking the length, "it's perfect." She unzipped the yellow cardigan and hung it over the back of the sofa. She slipped her arms through the new sweater and buttoned it up. "How does it look?" "Perfect," he echoed her earlier sentiment. The soft cashmere hugged her perfect breasts, flowed smoothly along the perfect contours of her perfect waist, and ended at the tops of her perfect hips. Her pretty smile turned into a jarring frown. She was upset by something. "Kevin, I didn't..." The words petered out on her pretty lips. She didn't have a gift for him. Why should she? He had forced her away at the movie theater and ignored her all the weeks since. He touched her shoulder and ran his fingers along the sleekness of her arms. "You're so beautiful. Just promise you'll wear it for me tomorrow," he said. He wanted to touch her again, to move beyond the softness of her arm. He settled for a brotherly pat on her knee. "Kevin?" Her eyes closed for a long moment, as if in contemplation. "I do have something for you." She opened her eyes at last and shyly regarded him. "It's in my room, but I need a couple of minutes to get it ready." "Oh," Kevin said, "some assembly required, huh?" "Something like that," she said. He perked up on the sofa. "Do you want me to come with you, or should I wait here?" She squirmed a moment, trying to decide. "Wait here," she said at last. Kevin waited as ten minutes stretched to twenty. He stretched his legs on the couch, feeling the cushions and imagining they were still warm from her body. The fire was struggling, so he threw a fresh log on the embers. He stoked the fire anew by prodding with a big iron poker. He heard a little voice call his name from the stairs. When he saw her he dropped the poker, leaving a big, black spot of soot on the beige carpet. She was an angel, even in black. Kevin forced himself to breathe. He had never seen so much of her body. Even when they went swimming in the lake, she wore old t-shirts and shorts to cover up. The neckline of the nightgown plunged, showing off the cleavage of her perfect breasts. Lace hugged her bosom; it trimmed the skirt that reached just below her hips. The way she moved was just as lovely. Her hips swayed in a way that Cassie's never would. Her walk was at once erotically confident and painfully shy. It was as if she knew she was desirable, but did not know if he desired her. How could he not? How could any man have been in her presence and not desired her? He wanted to fall to his knees before her. He wanted to press his cheek to the warmth of her crotch and beg her to forgive him. He was such a worm, such an insignificant worm. She was offering him the thing any man would die for, offering him love, the pure, sweet, primitive love of a woman for her man. He could only tremble in front of the fire he'd stoked, trying desperately to think of the ways to tell her they couldn't. His mind wouldn't work right. He was in a fog from which he might never escape. She stood before him in front of the fire. He could feel the cool breath from her nose. If she touched him he was lost forever. Curiously, it was he who touched her. He ran his fingers along her arm, now bare but for the spaghetti strap that had slipped from her shoulder. She released a sound from the back of her throat, something akin to a kitten's purr, or a little girl's whine. But she was no girl. Little Mandy was a woman, no denying that. An hourglass is the old metaphor for a voluptuous woman, but hourglasses didn't radiate warmth. Hourglasses didn't have tiny brown hairs that stood stiff on their arms when you touched them. His left arm sneaked around her back and pulled her close. She felt the hard lump behind the zipper in his jeans press against her stomach. She giggled and guessed that he liked his present. She had no idea how much. With his right hand he raised her chin. He kissed her harder, and with more passion than he would ever kiss Cassie. He backed her to the couch. She oofed as her knees buckled, and she landed bottom first on the cushions. No longer plagued by the soreness from his gym injury, he dropped to his knees. The nightgown was short, even on her petite body. She lifted her butt as he worked the hem over her hips. A wet spot had formed on her gray cotton panties, proof that she liked the interest he'd taken in his present. His nose was drawn to that little spot of moisture. The closer he got the better it smelled. He pressed his face to the warm cotton and inhaled the pungently erotic odor. His tongue reached out for its first explosive taste. He licked the spot and watched it grow as he added his moisture to hers. The taste was like the taste of her cheek after a brotherly kiss, and the odor was like the smell of her hair as they snuggled at the movies, only a thousand times magnified. It was her essence, and he wanted to devour as much of it as he could before he came to his senses and realized they shouldn't be doing this. He touched the wet spot with his tongue again. Through her panties, he felt the softness of her pubic hair, the puffiness of her mons. He slid the slip of gray cotton over her butt, dragging the panties slowly down her thighs. He let them rest around her knees for a moment. He was too transfixed by the visual treat of actually seeing her for the first time. Blessings Ch. 04 Short, golden-brown hair covered most of her pubic region, but the way she was sitting, with her knees parted just enough, offered him an intriguing view of her slit and just a hint of the glisteningly moist pinkness within. "I want you," he said, blurting the words in a moment of clarity. She giggled a moment. "I kind of guessed that." He shook his head, wishing he could make her understand. "No, I want you." He combed through the curls of her pubic hair, making her shudder. "I want your body," he said. He touched her cheek, and again, she shuddered. "I want all of you." "Then take me," she whispered. He nodded and took hold of the panties still wrapped around her knees. He slid them down her calves and over her tiny feet. He put the slip of cotton to his nose and inhaled her essence once more. He wanted to burn the scent into his brain, just in case he lost the courage to continue. He dropped the panties on the floor and gazed hungrily between her parted legs. She appeared pinker and more swollen than she had a moment ago. Bending forward he ran his tongue along her drooling slit, adding his own saliva to the mixture. He tasted the delicate folds of her labia, so pink and delicious. He licked her again, finding the protuberance of her little clit. She gasped when he found that. Her thighs climbed up on his shoulders; her calves and heels collided with his back. She moaned something about God or Jesus or someone all powerful and relaxed against the back of the sofa. She remained passive for a while as he lapped the moisture from her body. He concentrated on the pink folds and the little button, but every once in a while he would offer a kiss to the insides of her thighs, the cheeks of her buttocks, or the light trail of fuzz that led to her belly button. He knew she enjoyed his attentions because of the soft mewls she made and the way she tossed her head every now and again. But he wanted to make her feel better than she ever had in her life. He wanted her to forget about every man she'd ever been with, to compare this night and his tongue to every man she would ever be with. He got angry thinking about Amanda and other men. He forced his tongue into her vagina, trying his best to penetrate her. She gasped again, louder, and tried to close her thighs. As she bucked with an orgasm, Kevin reached up to manipulate her stiff little clit with his thumb. She bucked harder, grinding her soft, curly pussy against his face. Her hips slowed as her climax ebbed. Her thighs relaxed. He ceased lapping and went back to delivering gentle kisses to her lower belly. His hardness caused him discomfort. He hoped that her passion hadn't been quenched. He joined her on the couch. His heart skipped when she climbed on his lap. She tasted herself on his lips, evidently finding the flavor as pleasing as he had. He held her hips through the silky fabric of the nightgown and lowered his hands to rub her thighs. He loved her legs. She used to complain that they were too fat, but that was just ridiculous. Besides, bony legs didn't do it for him. He liked legs with shape, with substance. "Kevin?" she kissed his neck and felt his chest through his t-shirt. "I want to make you feel good, too." She removed his shirt and touched his uncovered upper body. "Please let me make you feel good." He nodded and stood. She helped him unfasten his jeans. He let her draw them down his long legs. She grabbed the elastic waist of his boxers and looked up, as if waiting for permission. His eyebrows rose, silently coaxing her to continue. She did. The cool air was instantly negated by the warmth of her breath. She took the shaft in her fist, eliciting a groan from Kevin. She looked up, as if hoping for instruction. "I'm not very good at sucking it," she admitted. His disappointment was tempered by the realization that lack of skill equaled a lack of experience. No one wanted to discover that their baby sister was a polished cocksucker. "You don't have to," he said. But she frowned at that and kissed the head of his dick. He felt his toes dig into the discarded blankets. When she kissed it a second time he almost fell over. She put it in her mouth, but it was too much too fast, and she took it out again with a gag and a cough. She opened her mouth to try again, but he stopped her. "I want to make you feel good," she pouted. He looked at the wad of blankets under his feet. He knelt down to smooth them out. "I want to make us feel good," he said. With so many lines not only crossed but obliterated, Kevin saw no reason not to cross the final line. He needed to be inside of her; he had decided that the very first time he tasted her. He didn't want to risk making a mess on the sofa, and he didn't want to break the spell by going to her room. They could do it here on the floor. Whatever romance the living room floor lacked would be made up for by the glow of the Christmas tree and the warmth of the fire. But only if she wanted it. He prayed that she did. He kissed her white thigh, kissed her knee, and blew cold air on the moisture trail he left. She shuddered and laughed, and touched the goose bumps he'd raised. "Do you want it?" he asked. His eyes, which had been studying the golden-brown curls between her legs, rose and met her own. She chewed her lip, eyeing the bed of fleece blankets he had made on the floor. "I do, but I'm afraid," she admitted. It wasn't her first time; he knew it wasn't her first time. But it was their first time, and that made it different. She, no doubt, wanted it to be perfect, just like him. She knelt on the blankets next to him. She touched his chest and kissed his chin. He reached for the hem of her nightgown, which had fallen over her hips, covering her treasure. "Rip that sucker open," she teased, repeating the words he had used while she toyed with the wrapping on her present. He didn't heed her advice. He wanted to see her in that nightgown again, almost as much as he wanted to see her out of it. He slowly slid the hem up her body, revealing her pale perfection one inch at a time. He saw the brown curls that covered the pussy he had just feasted on, and longed to feast on again. He saw the seductive curve of her hips, the smoothness of her belly. And he saw her magnificent breasts; when they bobbed free from the nightgown's lace bodice, he thought he would faint. They were as perfect as he always imagined, two youthful teardrops just beginning to show signs of sagging. He cupped his palm over one fleshy handful. He squeezed, not too hard, and released. The white flesh showed pink fingerprints, marks that slowly faded away. He molded his hands over both of them at once, trying to feel every contour. He squeezed them gently and weighed them in his palms. For the most part, she indulged his infatuation. When she rolled her eyes and mumbled "men," he knew he should find some other form of entertainment. He found something just as fascinating, her pretty pink nipples. They were stiff from his attentions, standing out like two fleshy pencil erasers. He brushed them with his thumbs, causing her to inhale sharply. Her areolas were just as sensitive as her nipples. He traced circles around the rosy pink discs, eliciting gasps and squirms. He knew he had to taste her. He sucked the fleshy nubbin capping her right breast into his mouth. He licked it and nipped it. The instinct to nurse was too strong. He applied suction, drawing the sensitive flesh as far into his mouth as he could. Again, Amanda indulged him; she cradled his head and stroked his back as he feasted on her sweet and salty flesh. She whispered encouragement, telling him how good it felt, but when he released the nipple to try its twin, he noticed the little bruise forming where he'd treated her pristine flesh too roughly. He touched the yellowing spot and apologized. She stroked his back again and fed him the other nipple. He was gentler. Sated, he kissed his way up the expanse of her bosom, kissed her shoulder, and kissed her neck. "Are you ready?" he whispered as he kissed and nipped her ear. She reclined on the blanket and demurely parted her thighs. She was ready. The first contact, that moment when the tip of his penis first penetrated into her warm, wet sheath, almost made him cum. He screwed up his face and backed away from her, breaking the contact. When he had sufficiently cooled, he tried again. Slowly he entered her, enjoying the tightness. He was careful not to hurt her. He wasn't huge in that department, but everything was in proportion to the rest of his body, and she was so much smaller than him. When he was part of the way in, she turned her head to the side and released an agonized grunt. He wanted to stop, but she assured him that she wasn't hurt. He continued nudging until he was all the way in. She grunted again and showed her teeth. "I can stop," he said. "I can do you with my mouth again." "Will you just fuck me already?" she said. He backed his hips and thrust into her. Her chin reached for the ceiling and her breasts wobbled. He repeated the motion and she grunted. She sounded pleased rather than pained. They found a steady rhythm. The hiss of their breath was joined by the steady beat of their bodies coming together. Her curvy legs curled around his thighs. Her hips rose to meet his. She was not in the least bit passive. He liked that. He lowered himself to kiss her, plunging his tongue into her mouth. The fact that their bodies were now doubly connected gave him an added thrill. Breaking the kiss, he resumed his thrusts. Her legs spread wider; her hips stilled. Her head tilted back. She opened her mouth but no sounds escaped. She looked at him intently. Her hips moved again, bucking faster than ever before. Her thighs closed like a vice around him. She squeaked and tilted her head again. He felt the convulsions deep within her body. Her vaginal walls gripped his dick, milking it. That was enough. He reached for her flattened breasts just as the first spray coated her insides. He manipulated her erect nipple as he sprayed again and again. His whole body locked in the process. An incredible feeling started in his toes. It climbed the length of his body, causing his nostrils to flare, and his eyebrows to twitch. The feeling went back down again, like a geyser that had played itself out. His limp, sticky dick fell out of her. A trickle of milky liquid followed. He watched his cum pool on the fleece blanket beneath her butt. Freedom from the sexual frenzy meant a return to reality. "Are you safe?" he asked. "I had my period a few days ago." That didn't answer his question. As jarring as reality was, it was no match for the beauty of Amanda's naked body. The glow of sex only served to enhance that beauty. Sweat had formed on her back. The fleece blanket was damp and so was she. "I better wash this," Kevin said. Mom had sewn that fleece blanket herself. She would be furious if he stained it. He wadded the blankets and stuffed them under his arm. He frowned as she slipped the black nightgown back over her body. She handed him her wadded up cotton panties. "Could you wash these? You made them awfully sticky and messy." He felt his penis twitch. He wanted to take her again, right there on the carpet. But he opted to avoid Mom's wrath by doing the laundry. He tossed the red blankets in the sudsy washing machine and started the agitation. He had placed Amanda's panties on top of the dryer. He touched the puddle of gray fabric. The crotch was still a little slick from her arousal. He put the panties to his face and inhaled with his nose and with his mouth. She had to be an angel because she smelled like heaven. "I never knew my big brother was a perv." The voice startled him, but he made no move to hide the panties or to move them from his nose. "A panty fetish, really Kevin?" the words were not meant to hurt, only to tease, and, perhaps, excite. "I'm only a pervert with yours," he admitted, tossing them to her. Her lips curved slyly. She wore a purple jersey bathrobe, but the sash was open, revealing the black lace nightgown beneath. "Then keep them. Hide them in your sock drawer. Or better still, under your pillow. Every night you can smell them and dream of me." She held the fabric to his nose. He wanted to tell her he already dreamed of her. She put the panties in his hand. "I can't believe you never tried to sniff Cassie's," she said. The name of his girlfriend was so invasive. Even mentioning it made it feel like she had caught them in the act. It felt like there was a rock in the pit of Kevin's stomach. He was a cheater. No matter the circumstances, no matter how strongly he loved Mandy, he had committed himself to Cassie. He had bought the ring that symbolized that commitment. He felt sick. And seeing the afterglow on Amanda's beautiful face, and the beads of sweat rolling down the cleavage of her perfect breasts only made him sicker. "Cassie," he mumbled. "I can't do this to Cassie." His feet shuffled clumsily, like they were asleep. "What are you doing?" Amanda asked. She seemed amused at first, but when she looked into his eyes she became frightened. She tried to block his way, tried to get him to talk with her, but she was so small and could be moved so easily. "You can't!" he heard her scream up the basement stairs. "You can't do this to me; not after--" She was quiet except for a few muffled sobs. He could picture her leaning against the cold concrete wall, slowly slinking to the ground. Hurting Mandy was the last thing he ever wanted. But he was such a fool for surrendering to her seductions. No, you stupid asshole, you wanted her. You wanted it. You've wanted Mandy like that forever, but you've been too god damned stupid to admit it. He ignored the chidings of his inner consciousness. His brain was far too drunk on hormones to be trusted. He functioned on instincts and the robotic morals that had been drilled into his head since birth. No matter his feelings for Amanda, whether real or lust-fueled fantasies, he was pledged to Cassie. As he stumbled into the living room, he realized Mandy's panties were still firmly in his grip. He stuffed them under the middle sofa cushion and hastily redressed. The fire had died. Amanda had turned out the Christmas tree lights. It was cold and dark, just like his apartment. He needed to go there. He needed to be away from Amanda. After stuffing his numb feet in his shoes, he went back to the basement stairs. The quiet was eerie, but he did hear a high-pitched sob break through the silence. He thought about running downstairs, taking her in his arms, and apologizing. He would kiss away her tears. She would forgive him because she loved him without condition. She was his baby sister. But the guilt of what it would do to Cassie overwhelmed him, and he backed away from the stairs. Amanda had much explaining to do when her parents returned home. Fortunately, Mom and Dad were a little tipsy from the party and accepted her story about Kevin's heat being restored at the apartment complex. She hoped they wouldn't call him. Kevin never showed up on Christmas morning. The presents he'd bought for Mom and Dad were still under the tree. They had no idea if they should open them or not. They tried calling but his cell phone was turned off. He wasn't at Cassie's house either. Amanda opened her parent's gifts with unusual sloth. Mom and Dad opened their gifts. Mom loved the sneakers, and Dad promised to try out the new rod and reel as soon as the lake thawed. Mom opened the largest package last, the enormous box stuffed with new towels and washrags. Mom held up a large burgundy bath towel."How great is this?" she asked, showing the towel to Dad. "I'll wash them all today, so we can throw out the old ones." She folded the towel and stacked it on its brethren. "Could you get your things out of the washer, sweetie?" Amanda wondered what things, before remembering the blankets from yesterday. She felt her Christmas spirit deflate. The dryer buzzer drew Amanda to the basement. She tiptoed past Mom, who was vacuuming the living room, preparing for company that would never come. Amanda made her way downstairs. She pulled the red fleece blankets out of the dryer. They were warm and when she tried to fold them they crackled with static electricity. She checked for stains but saw none. The blankets were clean. It was as if she and Kevin had never had sex. She wondered if that was how they would act from now on, like it had never happened. She hoped not. She wanted future family events to be marred by tensions. She wanted him to feel pain and sadness every time he looked at her. She wanted to give him knowing smiles as they passed in the hall and wicked little grins at the dinner table. She wanted to take his ugly little blonde children by the hand and make him wonder: What is she whispering to them? Is she telling them about us? It would be torture to be so close to him, but sweet torture. She wanted to make him squirm like a worm on a hook. It was a pleasant fantasy, even if she loved him too much to actually carry any of it out. Folded blankets in hand, she turned to ascend the stairs. Mom was waiting, one hand on her hip, the other holding something limp and gray. "Why were my daughter's undergarments beneath the sofa cushion?" Mom held Amanda's panties by the waistband. She dangled them for emphasis. "They wouldn't have anything to do with Kevin's sudden exile, would they? Amanda Crystal Armstrong, answer me!" Amanda wrung her hands. Her silence and the freshly washed blankets in her arms were admission enough. "Oh God, what did you do?" she asked, letting the panties flutter to the hard floor. "You said it was okay," Amanda mumbled. "You said we could be happy." Her mother had said those things. Her silence seemed like a denial to Amanda. "You did!" Amanda insisted. "Why won't you look at me?" She looked at Amanda, but only because she was pressed to do so. "I love him, Mom. I told him that I did, and I showed him." She touched her breast. She was still a little sore from his attentions. "But I only made him miserable. I made him think he was some kind of animal for cheating on Cassie." She felt tears, warm, stinging tears. Then she felt her mother's arms around her body. She felt her mother's hands stroking the back of her head. "It's not your fault." Mom tried to soothe. "You're just a baby." Amanda was twenty, but she feared her mother was right. "We shouldn't have put the idea in your head. We should have known better." She tried to blame herself. It made Amanda feel better for a moment, but she remembered it wasn't right. She had loved Kevin for a long time. Her parent's blessings had only made her realize how much. "He's going to marry her," Amanda whispered into her mother's hair. Mom shushed her and said that she knew. "They'll be happy, and I'll be miserable and alone." Mom shushed her again. She promised Amanda would have her pick of suitors. Amanda conceded that she might not be alone. "But with anyone else I'll be miserable." Mom kissed her cheek and stroked her hair. "Does he know how you feel?" she asked. Amanda touched her breast again. As she caressed the little bruise, she felt the faint beat of her heart. "I told him that I loved him." "You're his sister, sweetie; he already knows that you love him. You need to tell him why and how you love him. You need to tell him what you told me, that you'd be miserable without him and he'd be miserable without you." Mom played with the wedding ring on her finger. She twisted it, trying to work it off. "I want to show you something, if my fat finger will cooperate." She got the ring off and handed it to Amanda. "Read the inscription." Amanda held the ring up to the light. The inscription was on the inside. The tiny engraved letters read "soulmate." Blessings Ch. 04 "He's your soulmate, and you're his." Mom slipped the ring back on her finger. "There isn't anything I or Cassie or anyone can do about that. You just have to make him see it." Amanda nodded slowly. She would make him see. She would find him and make him see. "Take Dad's truck. Use the four-wheel drive; the roads are getting bad." Amanda nodded again. She cleared the tears from her crimson eyes. "Use the GPS. Cassie's address is in there. And take your time; the roads are getting bad," she repeated. Snow was collecting on the roads faster than the plows and salt trucks could handle. It took Amanda twice as long to reach Cassie's neighborhood as it should have. She parked two yards past the overflowing Zenk driveway. The house was big, twice the size of her own. All of the Zenk's drove Volvos and Saabs, expensive, practical, and boring cars. Kevin's rusty Ford looked incredibly out of place. The front door was open. She peered through the glass storm door. She could see the end of a table in the distance. A rotund, gray-headed man was carving the drumstick off a turkey. When he laughed his belly quaked and his black mustache twitched. She could see the shadows cast by the Zenk family. They were tall, thin, and imposing. For a moment she was frightened to face so many strangers. Then she remembered that Kevin was in there with Cassie, and he had that damned ring in his pocket. She stepped off the front porch, realizing that she hadn't thought of a plan. What would she do, run inside and scream that she was in love with her own brother? Oh God, that wouldn't do. She needed something to draw their sympathies. Something that would make their sweet little Zenk-in-training Kevin seem not so sweet. She saw a basketball goal in the driveway. Beneath it laid a half-frozen basketball. She brushed the snow off of the ball and stuffed it under her shirt. The ball was cold and wet; it felt like murder against the bare skin of her belly. But it did the trick. It made her belly bulge. The buttons of her purple cashmere cardigan threatened to pop, so she unbuttoned the bottom four. The storm door was unlocked. They were expecting more guests, apparently. She took advantage of the situation and let herself in. She waddled through the Zenk's living room, stepping over discarded toys and clothes boxes. The rotund man with the mustache was the first to see her. He dropped the carving knife and fork. His eyes went to her belly. As she approached the happy table, she felt even more eyes. The Zenks were nothing like she'd imagined. A few were tall and skinny, like Cassie, but the rest came in assorted shapes and sizes. They were all disgustingly blonde, though. She spotted Kevin. He sat next to a shrunken old lady who wore an awful blonde wig. The seat to his right was empty. Cassie was missing. When Kevin spotted her his eyes almost doubled. He, too, looked at her belly. "There you are!" she leveled an accusing finger at Kevin. "I spent all day cooking Christmas dinner, when you know the doctor said I shouldn't be on my feet," she cradled her back with both hands for emphasis. She hoped she made a convincing actor. "Mandy, what—" "Don't you Mandy me!" Again she leveled the finger. "You promised me you wouldn't see that woman anymore." She tried to force tears, but they wouldn't come. The rotund man collapsed into his seat. He grabbed the closest thing he could find, a turkey leg, and waved it at Kevin. "What is this meaning of this, young man? You're married?" "She's not my wife. She's—" "Oh, I'm not your wife. And I suppose that the twins aren't yours either! And this one," she slapped her belly and winced, hoping that no one heard the ping of the basketball, "we just found out that it's going to be our first boy." The ancient woman next to Kevin warbled congratulation. "Thank you. We're going to call him Kevin Jr." Kevin turned red at that. The eyes of the Zenk clan fell on him. The children at the kiddy table began an infectious giggle. Amanda wanted to giggle herself. She felt so wickedly alive. "Amanda what are you doing here?" Cassie's appearance brought Amanda down to Earth. "You know about her?" One of the Zenks, a snooty looking middle aged man, asked. "Of course I know about her." They all gasped. "She's Kevin's sister." They gasped even louder, all except for the old woman, who repeated her congratulation. "I didn't know about that," Cassie said, thumping Amanda's make-believe belly with her long finger. Her charade over, Amanda pulled the basketball from under her shirt. She dribbled it twice on the hardwood floor. It was Kevin who came to her rescue. "December fools, ladies and gentlemen. It's sort of like April fools, but with more...snow." Kevin said. "It's a very old tradition in the Armstrong family, and my sister and I thought we'd share it with you all this year." There was a nervous sprinkling of laughter amongst the Zenk clan. Amanda seized the opportunity to escape. He pushed his plate away and tried to follow, but someone stopped him. It sounded like Cassie, but Amanda was running too fast to be sure. She fumbled through her pockets for the key to Dad's truck. It wasn't on her. She peered through the passenger window and saw it sticking in the ignition. She kicked the tire and cursed herself. "Mandy, where's your coat. It's freezing out here." She shrugged Kevin's hand from her shoulder. "Leave me alone," she grumbled. "Go inside with your new family. Have Christmas with them." "They're not my family," he said, leaning against the truck. "Look at me." He touched her chin and forced her to look. "You're my family." The words didn't sound as comforting as they should have. He slowly exhaled. "I didn't—I mean I'm not going to marry her." He touched her face. A very real tear was sliding down her cheek. "Will you put this on," he said, handing her his black wool topcoat. "You've got to be freezing." She put the coat on. It was far too big; the hem touched the snow. But it was warm. "I thought you loved her," Amanda said. "I like her; I like her a lot. But she's not the one I want to spend my life with." He poked her belly. "She's not the one I want to have basketballs with." A loud smack startled the siblings. The Zenks had slammed the front door shut. "She didn't take it very well," he said. "But in my defense, I was going to wait until tomorrow to break it off with her. Who wants to get dumped on Christmas? You kind of pressed the issue." "What if you had changed your mind again?" Amanda asked. "A lot can happen in a day." Especially a day like Christmas. Kevin straightened the collar on the coat he'd lent her. "Look in the inside breast pocket," he said. Amanda dug into the pocket. She pulled out a bundle of leaves and berries. It was mistletoe. "I stole that from the foyer." He gestured towards the Zenk house. "I was taking no chances." She put the mistletoe back. It would come in useful later. "There's something else in that pocket," he said. She dug past the mistletoe and felt a little velvet box. It was the ring he'd bought Cassie. "Yeah, so I was really planning on making a commitment to the woman I love today. And seeing as how she's you..." Amanda clutched the velvet box for a moment, then released it. She looked down and ground the toe of her boot in the snow. "We can't get married," she said. She hated it, but it was fact. "No," he agreed, "but we could be married. Our business will be our business and no one else's. How does that sound, Mrs. Armstrong?" "Mrs. Armstrong," she stuck out her tongue, "ick, that's Mom's name." She knew he was right, though. They could be married, even if they didn't have the license and the photographs and the carefully coordinated ceremony to prove it. "I think I want to take you home, Mrs. Armstrong." "I think I want to be home, Mr. Armstrong, but there's one little problem. She frowned and pointed through the window to the key in the ignition. His car was boxed in by Volvos and Saabs, so it too was pretty much out of commission. "Well crap," she said. She motioned to the Zenk house. "Do you think one of them would give us a ride?" His eyes brightened as if struck by inspiration. "There is a motel a few blocks from here, just off the highway. It'll be a cold walk, but we should be able to make it before the blizzard really starts." "Or we could call Mom and Dad," Amanda said, fishing his cell phone out of the coat. "Or we could try the motel." She arched her eyebrow. "A motel, huh? And what would we be doing at this motel?" He smiled slyly. She purred as his fingers reached inside the coat to stroke her belly. "We could practice basketball," he suggested, then kissed her. "Oh yeah?" she asked, eyeing the Zenk's house for parted curtains. She saw none. "You haven't said yes." He eyed her seriously. She wanted to say yes, and she wanted to put on the ring that was at least a size too big. But something was holding her back. "Kevin?" she tried to make herself sound serious. "Are you my soulmate?" she asked. "I think so," he answered. His eyes narrowed into slits as he thought for a moment. "No, I definitely am." "Good," she said. "Then my answer is yes." She peered down the street, past all of the pretty houses strung with pretty lights. "How far did you say that motel was?" The End