19 comments/ 159975 views/ 33 favorites Everybody Wants a Soldier By: erise I. INTRO "I'm serious, Denny. You can't tell anybody about this. Not ever. Especially not the folks." Melissa knew she was stressing the point to the point where it was almost ridiculous. Of course he would keep his mouth shut. Denny wasn't stupid, and he must know that if a word about last night got out, he'd be in as much trouble as she was. Possibly even more. Denny took the eyes of the road for a second to glance at her and gave her one of those reassuring smiles that he was so damn good at. "Chill, Mel. I couldn't blabber even if I wanted to," he said, focusing on driving again. "I mean, what the hell would I say? 'Mom, Dad, guess what? Melissa and I got drunk as skunks and grass-giddy last night. So we ended up at my place. Now, I don't think you, being our parents and all, want all the gooey details, but the next morning we woke up buck naked in my bed, and my dick was still inside of her.' I don't think I'll do that." Melissa couldn't help but laugh. "No, you're right. Let's just forget the whole thing, ok? It was the booze and the weed." "Yes, the weed," Denny said, "Ok, as far as everyone else on the planet is concerned, last night never happened." "Good." "But I'll never forget it. Damn sis, you feel good. And you taste even better." Melissa groaned inwards, as his words sent small tingles in every direction through her body. Her knees weakened, just a little. She forced herself to snap out of it. "Shut up," she said with a faint laugh, "Don't try to sweet talk me into any more perversion. You're not getting any from me again. That's just—weird." "Only messing with you, kid," Denny said. "Kid?" "You'll always be my kid sister," he said and gave her a playful kiss on the forehead. A foot shorter than everyone else in her family, Melissa had gotten pretty used to that, "Even when we're fifty and fifty-one, I'll have one up on you." "Only when counting years. You're a guy, so your mental age is permanently stuck at fifteen." "Hooray, I'm young forever," Denny said, then he turned serious again, "Hey, are you cool with everything? You're not going to freak out all of a sudden and make a dirty little confession to ears that should never hear it?" "No way. I'm fine. It was just a drunken mistake. Nobody's fault, and nobody got hurt, right?" "Right." "All right then." And that was the end of it. The craziest night in Melissa's life was over, and now permanently filed in her cabinet of memories. A memory to look back on and both feel a little ashamed of, and one to recall ever so fondly. Denny's car swung up on the driveway of the house where Melissa lived and tried to save up money to move away from their parents. In a way, her brother had been lucky. It was just fucked up that it meant she'd be left behind like this. "Well, sis. That's it," he said. There was really nothing more to say. His bags were backed and in the back seat. He'd be on the road and out of her world in a matter of minutes. Melissa reached over and grabbed his hand. "Take care, ok? No more random car accidents. If you go and die on me I'm going to fucking kill you. First I'll learn voodoo and wake you up, then I'll kill you." "Ok, no dying. I promise," he laughed. He leaned over and kissed her on the forehead. Always that, as if it was some kind of secret handshake. In a way, it was. "Say goodbye to mom and dad from me, ok?" "I will. I love you, Denny," Melissa said, and noticed Denny's amused look, "In a totally normal, non-creepy, sibling kind of way of course. Jeez, what kind of a freak do you take me for?" "Haha! Do you really want to know?" Melissa laughed, gave him one last hug and got out of the car. "I love you too, Mel," Denny said. "Good," she simply replied, "And you know what? What I said about last night being a drunken mistake? I take that back. I have no regrets. No regrets at all." He just smiled at her, gave her a wink and backed off from the driveway. She waved as he drove off. A turn around the block and he was gone. Denny was gone again. II. GOOD OLD DAYS Denny and Melissa had always been close. Born just ten months after her brother, she was a testimony to her parents' eagerness to do grown-up things together. Even with a demanding, screaming poop machine in the house, they had managed to get Denny's mom pregnant again in just a few weeks. The two siblings had managed to collect the best chromosomes out of their parent's gene pool, and two decades later they were both striking displays of what evolution can do. Melissa's semi blonde hair, cute round face and big, green eyes were carried by a nicely curved body with smooth, toned skin that hinted she took great care of it. All those were attributes that she had gradually become aware of during her teens. At first it made her uneasy to suddenly be the focus of boys' attention all of the time, but that soon changed, and Melissa had eventually become quite the little tease. Not that she was a shameless skank or anything. Proper enough to not offend anyone, and not really a part of the most central in-clique at school either. She just knew how to move and what to say to make boys do whatever she wanted. But she her mother had taught her enough sensibility to keep the hormone pumped teenagers at bay. It wasn't up until the summer after High School that she finally gave up her virginity to what she thought was the love of her life. He then repaid the favor by sleeping with one of her best friends at a party two weeks later. As the saying goes, "hell hath no fury like a woman scorned." Revenge had been sweet, both for Melissa and her friend, who had been equally duped by that bad case of Don Juan wannabe. Revenge had also included her brother Denny beating the living shit out of the poor sod. Brute force was one thing that Denny was good at. His life was sports, especially boxing and a whole collection of martial arts. Getting into a fight with him meant you would lose, unless, perhaps, your name was Mike Tyson. But it would be a close call. And Denny would do anything for Melissa. The two had practically been best friends since the day Mommy had come home from the hospital and held up the little bundle in front of the almost as small Denny and said, "Denny, meet your sister. Her name is Melissa." After a few weeks, one could not take a nap if the other one was not there too. And as weeks turned into months, and months turned into years, the two of them were inseparable. Denny always the protective one, catering his sister's needs and shielding her from everything from sharp edged furniture to other kids in the sand box. Of course, years turning into decades changed things. No more sharing clothes or bed, and their interests drifted off in different directions. But there remained that special link, a sense of comfort to be around each other. And despite the occasional falling-out over this or that issue, they remained allies against the world through the whole of the shaky teenage years. After High School, Denny got a job at the gym where he used to box. Since he never left the "promising" stage, he decided to call it quits before his brain was punched to ground beef. So now he trained kids instead. This is not to say that he was slacking off. Denny without a shirt on still looked like an old German Nazi poster of the perfect Arian. Blond, buff, that perfect Colgate smile and that utterly camp hairdo. The hair was cut simply to be kept out of the way because, unlike his sister, he didn't give the first damn about his appearance. He dressed in whatever was clean and at school he felt more at home with the geek squad than with his football teammates and fellow boxers. The dating game was not high up on his list of interests. He'd been going steady with the same girl since Junior High, but their relationship was more of a charade between two friends to keep their other friends from trying to hook them up all the time. She was Catholic and a firm believer in a wedding night debut, so Denny was not getting laid either. Nor did he care to. Anyway, the assault on the jerk that had finally nagged Melissa into opening up her thighs might have seemed like a good idea at the time, but their dad thought otherwise. To tell the truth it wasn't the first time that Denny had gotten into trouble. Being good at fighting meant that he seldom backed down from a fight, and in a typical late teenage world there sure was enough opportunity for trouble. To tell the truth, it was because he won that it looked like he was violent. But he figured that if he didn't give the other guy a black eye, he'd end up with one. Regardless, his dad decided that that was the last straw, and he sat down to have a long and serious talk with his son. The result was that Denny was going to sign up for armed service. That would teach him some self discipline, his father reasoned. Denny put up a small show of protest just to make his dad believe that it was a suitable punishment. The fact that he had planned to enlist after the summer anyway was something that he only told Melissa. "I can't go on like a redneck, dealing with stuff with these all the time," he had said showing his fists. "I got to grow up, Mel." "I guess so," Melissa said somberly. "Come on. Don't go grumpy on me. I'll stay in touch." "I guess so," she repeated, but she didn't quite believe in it. It was a sudden and big change in Melissa's life. In just a couple of weeks, Denny would be gone. The one person in the world that defined home to her more than anyone, the one that was closest and dearest to her would, all of a sudden, be hundreds of miles away. Nobody to banter with over the breakfast table, nobody to whine about homework with, nobody to have a good cry at when her hormones went haywire every once in a while. It would be empty. And it was. He walked out one morning in August with a packed bag and that reassuring smile on his lips. And not even a long, tight hug and a kiss on her forehead could do anything about that hollow, gnawing feeling in the pit of her stomach. Two years is a long time, and in the life a young woman without something to grasp onto, a lot of things can happen. In the wake of her brother first leaving, and then as his calls and letters eventually got fewer and fewer, Melissa tried to fill the space with a string of more or less failed dates and romances. They were mostly decent guys, but not even decent guys can make a relationship work unless both parties have their hearts fully into it. Still, she learned a lot from this parade of men. Her emotional attachment and engagement may have been faltering, but she made up for it in terms of physical dedication. The reactions from guys that she had always gotten with a seductive glance and a bit of exposed skin was increased tenfold with the addition of an exposed nipple, an eager pussy and a skilled blowjob. After losing her cherry in that most unglamorous way, she had adapted a what-the-hell attitude towards sex. It was there, it was undramatized and it was hers at the bat of an eyelid. She quickly learned what made their easily led libidos quiver, and also a whole lot about her own pleasure buttons. How to push them herself and how to make her lovers push them for her. No, it was neither lack of sexual abilities, nor lack of enthusiasm, that caused boyfriend after boyfriend to give up on her. Believe it or not, contrary to the popular cliché, most guys want more than sex out of a relationship. So in the end, she gave up on the idea of finding a soul partner, and aimed for nothing but one-nighters and a few reliable fuck buddies. She wasn't exactly unhappy with that arrangement. The Denny shaped hole was still present in the back of her head, but she learned to cope with not having him around. There were plenty of friends, a set of not too dumb parents, and her dad had a friend who set her up with a good retail job. Life was not great, but if OK was what she'd get, OK would have to do. When Denny finally stood on his family's front porch, it had been twenty-two months, almost two years, since she had seen his face. Stationed far off on another coast, holiday visits had been quite impossible, and as he had explained in a letter, the less leaves he took, the faster he'd be back home for good. There had been a knock on the door. A polite little tap-tap-tap, as if it wasn't his home at all. Melissa, who was the only one home, couldn't for a second believe that her brother would knock on his own door. She knew he was on his way of course, but it was with a slight annoyance over having to turn the radio down that she went and opened the door, ready for whatever salesman or evangelist nutjob she'd have to ward off this time. "Hello, sis," said the evangelist nutjob outside and flashed her a big grin. This particular nut was hauntingly familiar. In casual travel uniform and a three-day shave he actually had Melissa's synapses fire in the wrong directions for the first couple of attempts before making all the connections. But there was no doubt about it. Denny. The sight of her brother made her just gawk for several seconds, before she emitted a little happy squeal and threw her arms around him and placing a big, hard kiss right on his lips. Denny was back, the empty spot with his name on it was filled again, and in an instant the OK status of her existence took a major upgrade. That summer was the best in many years for both of the siblings. Although they both had changed, they cherished this opportunity to go back in time to less complicated days, the simplicity of their childhood all over again. One more summer, just one more summer where things could be the way they once were. It had been an odd two years, where they both had been thrown head over heels out into the adult life. They had collected bruises and taken beatings. Melissa's all on the inside, a line of failures in emotional intimacy that she had promptly swept under the rug. Denny's of a more physical kind. He'd been places, met people, and on occasion gotten a lesson or two in the fact that out in the real world, he was not unbeatable. The most prominent of those lessons were still on his face, in the shape of a scar tissue running across his cheek and down the side of his neck. "It's nothing," he said one day, when Melissa finally came around to ask about it, "Just a freak accident. I'm fine. I just kept it to myself because I knew both you and mom would freak if you heard that I had a stray steel splinter the size of a pizza almost chopping my head off." "You had what?!" "See, I said you'd freak. Look, it was an accident. Not even army related. A car crash on a night off duty. Wrong place, wrong time. Nobody's fault. It could have happened to anybody anywhere." "Jesus—I can't believe you kept it to yourself," Melissa said with an unsteady voice, "Shit, I'm all shaky now. I almost lost you, and I had no idea." She threw herself at him and gave him a long, tight hug. "You bastard," she murmured into his ear, "Don't you ever keep any secrets from me again. You hear me? Not ever. Promise me that." "I promise," he replied, "Oh, and speaking of which—you haven't exactly been an open diary since I got home. What have you been up to those years?" Afterwards, he kind of wished he hadn't asked. Melissa decided right there and then that only total honesty would do, so she replied without a hint of shame. "Getting more laid than I thought I'd be in a lifetime." It was all Denny could do to just sit there, with an increasingly bewildered panic in his face, as Melissa methodically, and at great length, spread out her entire love life in front of him. No details were spared, and since there had been no real emotional connection between her and her flirts, this was all about one thing. Sex, and then more sex. She casually compared their style and endurance, size and shapes of their cocks, the noises they made and the individual little kinks they had. She herself was no exception. In great detail, she let her brother know just how much she loved to try out new positions, how long it took her to get off when masturbating, her preference for hairless chests and hairy balls instead of the other way around. Detail by detail she laid out a map for her poor brother on exactly how to give her the most pleasure, and also let him know that when it came to giving it to men, she knew just the right tricks. "Uh—Mel—" Denny finally managed to say. "Really, I don't think I should be listening—" "Oh, but you must. So much has changed while you were gone. I've grown up, I'm not the same person any more." "No shit." "That's right. I'm in this new place, having all those experiences that I never would have guessed I'd have. And it's all so private, you know. There's nobody I can talk about it with. Mom? She'd get embarrassed and avoid the subject. Dad? He'd go berserk and go after every one of them with a shotgun." "Daddy doesn't believe in guns," Denny said. "Knowing his daughter had wild monkey sex with all those nice, young men she dated would convert him pretty fast, I think," Melissa said with a laugh. "Good point. But—don't you have girlfriends to share these kind of things with?" "You just hit the imperative. We're girls. I'll bet you guys just high-five each other when you have scored another notch in the bedpost, but my girls—I love them to bits, but they're so fucking prude sometimes. Sure, they know that I've slept with some of my so-called boyfriends. But all of them? Seven days a week? And that I've been a free lunch on the first date with almost all of them? Come on, they would so not understand." "And—you're saying I would?" Denny said. That stopped her. At least for a second. "I—I don't know. I guess I hoped that you would at least not judge me." "I'm not. Trust me, I'm not. I just say that it's not all that easy for me either. Jesus, I'm your brother for crying out loud. I'm not supposed to think of you and—you know—" "It's called 'sex', Denny." "—yeah, that—at the same time. It's just not right." Melissa couldn't help herself, but burst out in a delighted, silvery laugh. "Oh, Denny. I love you, bro. You're such a little boy sometimes. What's the big deal? We're adults. Adults fuck other adults. That's the way it works. Dad fucks mom. Mr. Granger down the street fucks his maid—" "He does?" "Oh yeah. Hired a new one last year, after the old lady that used to clean there got retired. They fell head over heels in love and now they talk about her moving in. I think he's gonna propose to her. He has that kind of look on his face. Anyway, what I was saying was that yeah, I fuck. And I fuck a lot. So why shouldn't I get to talk about it with the one person that understands me? I mean, it's not like we're, you know, doing it." There was no argument to counter that, so Denny just nodded, and tried his best to suppress the images rising in his imagination. Not that he had much success. All he could think about was her, and sex. Melissa, his beautiful baby sister, and sex. Melissa stripped, sweaty and spread for some unknown man's delight. Melissa getting slammed from behind, her pretty face thrown back, her long hair spread over her naked back and the slap-slap-slap sound of skin on skin mixed with her grunting and panting. Melissa with her lips wrapped around some big, veined erection. His too vivid imagination had her face superimposed on every porn flick scene his memory could recall, and scene after scene of forbidden voyeur was played in his mind's eye while she continued to purr out the tales of her debauchery. She sat in the sofa in their living room, closely snuggled up against him seemingly oblivious to the effect she had on him. Eventually she reached the end of her tales, and as she stopped pouring sexuality from between her lips, Denny finally managed to conjure up new images in his head. The most boring and benign things he could come up with, anything to get rid of the growing erection that he prayed Melissa had not yet spotted. At any rate she didn't mention it. Truth is, she had spotted the slowly rising tent in Denny's pants long ago, but she didn't want to embarrass him any further by bringing up what had been—well—brought up. Everybody Wants a Soldier "Thanks for being so patient with me. I feel so much better not that I have shared this with somebody," she said. With a quick kiss on his cheek and an affectionate pat on his thigh, he left him there to collect his thoughts. That proved to be a Herculean task. However hard he tried, there was no way to air out the X-rated loops on constant repeat on his inner silver screen. It was Melissa, over and over again. Fucked, slammed, licked, ground into mattresses, pinned against walls, fed cocks in every hole, sucking, bucking, riding and moaning in the hands of a countless mass of men. In his head there were even several of them at once, pumping away into her beautiful, sexy body. The only way to stop the insanity was to get rid of that bloody hard-on, so he dashed up into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He barely got his cock out of his pants before he shot a string of white across the tiles of the bathroom wall. They didn't talk any more about that afternoon of confession, but one or two impish glances exchanged between the two whenever a conversation with friends or family touched on the subject of her former boyfriends reaffirmed that it was something that would never be forgotten. Other than that things were delightfully normal, and they both reveled in this their last real summer holiday as if they were still kids. It was just an illusion though, and they knew it. Real life, with all its obligations would soon catch up with them. III. A NEW DESTINATION Real life did catch up with them tree weeks later. It arrived in the shape of a white envelope and disguised as good news. Two years in the service of Uncle Sam had opened a few doors for Denny. Their family had never been more than just above poor, so any higher education ambitions the two had was on community college level. But with the army college fund to add to their savings, Denny had decided to get a solid entrepreneurial education and applied to several different schools. What had arrived was an admission letter from one of the better ones. It wasn't Ivy League exactly, but the school had a good reputation. Everyone was of course happy for him, Melissa no less than the others, but the event also marked the end of that dream-like month. A month she secretly wished could last forever. "Washington?" had been her first reaction to the news, "Seattle? Damn, that's just about as far away from us that you can get without falling into the ocean." "I know," Denny said, "I'm gonna miss this place. You, mom, dad, everything. But I really need to do this. It's a great opportunity." "Yeah, of course you should go. But I'll miss you. I finally get my favorite buddy back, and then he runs off again after just one summer. It's going to be so dull here without you. It really sucks that you got in on a reserve place. Now we'll only have, what, a week before you have to go?" Denny managed to look truly regretful, "Actually, it's less than that. Term starts in two weeks, but I'll have to fix housing and lots of paper work, since my application was so late." Melissa's heart sank, and she sighed, "Ok, when are you leaving?" "Tomorrow morning. Can't afford to fly there, so I need two extra driving days just to make sure I'm not late for registration." "Shit." "My thoughts exactly." Melissa couldn't help it, the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach was rapidly returning. There'd be a Denny shaped hole in her life again, one that would suck up all the fun and comfort in her life. One that however hard she tried, with work or friends or pointless sex, was impossible to fill up. The tears welled up in her eyes and started to roll down her cheeks before she even noticed it. Then came the ache in her chest, a short, miserable whimper, and she threw herself sobbing into the surprised arms of Denny, who could do nothing but stand there and awkwardly stroke her hair while she bawled into his chest. A good cry can sometimes clear out a lot of things, and as her sobbing subsided, so did that immediate panic attack. This was life after all, and life was not supposed to be fair. Denny deserved this chance, and she was just being a spoiled little kid thinking that she had any right to have him for herself. At least that's what she told herself. Out of the self-pity gutter, young woman, and show some spine. "Sorry," she murmured. "It's ok, sis," Denny said, "I hate this too. This has been the best summer in my life, hands down. It sucks that it has to be over. It sucks hairy balls." "Just like me, you mean?" There was no turning back from that line. All the tension broke though into a burst of laughter. It wasn't long before they were both writhing in a heap on the ground. "Oh god, I need a drink," Melissa wheezed, trying to catch her breath. "I'll tell you what, Mel. Today, it's only you and me, ok? Let me just pack my bags, and then we'll hit the town and bar-hop until we fall over. If this is the last night we have let's go out in style." "I like the sound of that." As the afternoon and evening went on, drinks went down and moods went up. They stumbled yapping and laughing from place to place, playing pool, dancing, even making asses of themselves singing karaoke at one place. The night was rolling into darkness, and they found themselves walking, comfortably tipsy, out of a club when the midnight hour kicked in. It had been a wonderful night of carefree enjoyment, but the high tempo was beginning to take its toll. They sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and rested their feet for a while. The streets were pretty silent, but others like them, mostly young lovers and groups of boys and girls on the way to or from some oasis of the night, passed by. Their laughter and banter a perfect sonic match to the pumping of beats and base from the club the Denny and Melissa had just left. "You left a sad cluster of broken hearts back there," Denny laughed. "What?" "Oh come on. Don't tell me you didn't see the guys whose eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you were dancing. You are so sexy you even got my hormones boiling in there, and I've seen you in diapers for Christ's sake." "Hah. I didn't give the first damn about those wankers, you know that. I'm with you." "I'm with you," the words hung like a thick mist between them, and nothing more was said for several minutes. They just sat there and silently enjoyed the company of each other, no words, not even any exchanged glances. There was no need for that. They knew exactly where they had each other, so they just sat there and let the cool night air fill their lungs and caress their overheated bodies. Melissa leaned over and rested her head on Denny's shoulder, and he placed a protective arm around her. She absently grabbed the hand hanging down from over her shoulder, and in that classic loving embrace they spent another half hour, in a cocoon of blissful silence and comfort of each other's presence. Time stood still, until Denny shifted a little and cleared his throat. "So, what now? Where do we go?" "Do we have to go anywhere? Can't we just sit here for the next couple of years and not give a fuck about the rest of the world?" "Really?" "Really." "All right," Denny said and reached into a pocket on his jacket, "I'm gonna have a smoke. Want some?" "What? I didn't know you smoked." "Not every day. And not cigarettes." "Is that—is that a joint? Denny!" "What? Come on, I don't know what propaganda you've heard, but it's just a little weed. It's as harmless as anything. Come on, try some with me. If you don't like it, then you'll know." "No—I'm just surprised. I remember that I couldn't even get you to drink beer before you became a uniform boy. I guess they taught you more than to shoot a gun and march in a straight line there, huh?" Denny laughed. "You could say that." He lit up the badly rolled thing and took a first suck at it, before handing it over to his sister. Melissa had never smoked anything before, and her first attempt ended in a serious coughing fit. But she was not going to let that stop her. If it was cool with Denny it was cool with her. Period. So after a couple more attempts, she had gotten the hang of it, and they passed the slowly decreasing butt between them in silence. It felt—cozy, she decided. Whatever was in that white roll made the stone pavement they sat on feel softer, the shoulder strap of her bra stopped annoying her, and the warm, tender embrace of her brother's chest and arm felt more right than ever. The last remaining traces of worrying about the harsh reality of the day after faded away, and all that was in the universe was that little bubble that contained her and the man she had come to define her existence by. "So—" she said in a mocking tone, "I turned you on back there on the dance floor, did I?" "Oh shut up," Denny chuckled. "Oh no, perv brother. I'm not going to give you the luxury of denial. Fess up. You wanted me." "Well—ok, you win. There were moments. Seconds now and then in there when the booze and music and flashing lights made me forget just who you were. At those moments, I found myself thinking that I wanted to drag you off into the nearest alley and screw you against a back door or something." "Rowr, nasty." "Happy now, you twisted little pixie?" "Actually yes," Melissa purred, "Now I know that I'm pretty." "The fact that every man in town is drooling at the sight of you is not proof enough?" "I couldn't care less about the opinion of any other man in this town than yours." "Ok, you're now officially drunk," Denny decided, "You don't really mean that." "Mmm—maybe I don't. But if I can make my own bro think of me as hot, that packs some weight, wouldn't you say? Besides, I'm not really that drunk. Draw me a straight line and I'll walk it." "I'm too drunk to draw straight lines." "Touché." After the very last of the joint had turned into that calming smoke, they decided that it was time to call it a night. Denny's apartment was just a few blocks away and there was no way for Melissa to get home this late except with a taxi that was way out of their budget, so the decision was easy. They'd crash at his place and he'd drop her off at home tomorrow before leaving for Seattle. They walked, leaned together like lovers, leaving a chain of bad puns and soft giggles in their trail. IV. A KISS IS JUST A KISS Finally at Denny's two-room shack, all the different chemicals, ingested, inhaled and produced internally had simmered to a perfect mix to tilt the young woman's judgment completely out of play. There's never just one thing to point at and say that oh yes, that's what caused her to act like she did. The hormone and stimuli cocktail in her veins, the growing feeling of time running out ticking in her subconscious, and just plain old habit all joined forces as Denny guided her into his hallway and locked the door behind them. Before Melissa could even think, she had flung herself at him, pressed her lips against his and pushed her tongue deep into his mouth. It took her several seconds to realize just what and who she was doing, and it took Denny even longer to react at all. So she tore herself away just as he pushed her off, which resulted in a stumble, a fall and Melissa desperately grabbing hold of whatever she could to not fall flat on her ass. What she found was a coat rack, which meant she fell just as ungracefully to the floor, and dragged the whole thing down over her. It hit her soundly in the head and turned her into a whimpering pile of hair, trench coat, tanned legs and a whole lot of cursing. "Mel, are you alright?" "Ow—yeah," she said as she collected herself and pushed the coat rack out of the way, "My head hurts." Denny knelt down beside her where she sat. "Let me see. No bleeding at least. Nothing else?" "No, no I'm fine." Their eyes met, and were suddenly as locked there as if their gazes had been fused into position. The stumble, the fall, the coat rack and the mess there were suddenly all forgotten, and just one thing clung in both of their minds. The kiss. "What the hell happened here?" Denny said. "It was just a reflex," Melissa breathed, "It's how nights like this usually end for me. I forgot you were you. Just like you said you did in the club, remember? Let's just rewind and pretend that didn't happen, ok?" "Ok. Come on," he said while helping Melissa to her feet, "I'll tidy up here, if you get some coffee going in the kitchen." "Coffee? You don't want to sleep?" "And miss some hours when I could hang with you? No way. I just wanted to get off the streets." "You are such a darling. And I don't want to sleep either. Tell you what, I'll make coffee that could wake up trilobites, and you amuse me with dazzling army anecdotes. You must have thousands of those, right?" "I think I can come up with a few good ones." Melissa let up a happy sigh and gave him a short hug before heading off into the kitchen. "And I still want to know about all the girls you must have banged!" She yelled from the kitchen, "Everybody wants a soldier." Denny groaned a little to himself. He kind of wished it wouldn't come Melissa coaxing him to spilling his beans on sexual escapades the way that she had, but now he was cornered. She wouldn't let him avoid the question for long. Oh well, it wasn't as if there was nothing to tell. A pack of uniformed alpha males on their Saturday night prowl was almost guaranteed to get themselves all the pussy they could ever wish for. He had stories enough for her all right. He never got around to tell her about that though. The first steaming mugs of strong, black Java went down with much lighter conversation about everything under the sun except sex. And then, the fireworks went off. It was so easy to unleash all that pent up desire and frustration that they both harbored that afterwards, none of them could remember exactly what had caused them to lose their self control that second time. It had been so trivial. They both got up from the couch at the same time to grab a coffee refill in the kitchen. As Denny's hand accidentally brushed by Melissa's thigh, time slowed down to a trickle. In slow motion they saw themselves rise up further. Denny's hand, with a life of it's own, never left that tender patch of skin, and soon his lips and nose trailed her long hair up to her face. Melissa's hand had landed on his shoulder, and now meekly rested on his chest as their faces met. The tip of her nose drew a soft line of caress from his earlobe over his cheekbone and up to his nose. Her eyes were closed, but her sense of touch and smell had never been so focused in her entire life. Without a sound, or other motion than giving into the gravity between them, their faces sunk closer and their lips merged in an endlessly soft and tender kiss. When they leaned back again, she buried her green gaze in his. Their conversation needed no words, but they whispered them almost soundlessly anyway. "I wish I could say I'm sorry," Melissa began, "But I'm not. I wish I could claim that I forgot it was you again. But I didn't." "Me neither." "Stop me now, or this will happen. It shouldn't, I know it shouldn't happen, but I can't help myself. Denny, this is your last chance. Stop me." "I—can't." Denny said, "I don't even want to." From there on and through the night, they broke every rule, every hushed down taboo, eradicated any and all excuses for their behavior. Fully aware and knowing exactly what they were doing, they crossed that line and plunged head over heels into full blown, no holds barred acts of shameless incest. They tumbled down into the sofa and kissed as if their lives depended on it, tasting each other's tongues while hands caressed legs, asses and backs, breasts were pressed up against chest and crotches ground against thighs. Melissa's skirt had traveled up to her waist, and Denny cupped her lovely ass in both his hands. Just thinking the thought, 'That's my brother's hands on my butt,' gave Melissa weird and wonderful tingles up her spine. Now that the cat was out of the bag, she longed for nothing more than to fully consummate this unholy union, to sink as deep into the taboo as she possibly could. Nothing else would be enough. "Take me, Danny. Fuck me, right now." He didn't need to be told twice, he unlocked from their embrace and promptly yanked her panties down to her knees. While he unbuckled his belt and got rid of his pants, she kicked the panties off her legs and pulled her top over her head. Denny looked down at her where she lay in nothing but a white laced bra and a black skirt up around her waist. "God, you're beautiful," he said and pulled off his T-shirt. All he wore now were a pair of boxers with a rock hard erection bulging underneath. He pulled those down, and his cock sprung out in full view. Melissa's eyes went from there, to his eyes and back again. Then she nodded and spread her legs wide, sinking her head back into the pillows, as if telling him that she served her body to him, that it was his to use with that beautiful tool in any way he wanted to. He sank down on his knees and leaned over her. She could feel the tip of his cock brush against the inside of her thigh, and she just wanted to scream at him to get on with it. But Denny couldn't quite shake the image of a little girl in braids out of her mind. For some strange reason, he suddenly saw her as this fragile, innocent little being, when he knew that the truth was far from that. When his fingers traced the outside of her slit, she felt a first surge of intense excitement and pushed her hips up against his hand. A finger slipped inside into the warm hole, and feeling how wet she was, he had no more worries. He pushed two fingers all the way into her pussy and could feel and hear her immediate reaction. "Oh yes," she panted and took a grip around his waist. Denny pulled out the fingers and still looking straight into his sisters eyes, he put the sticky fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. It was just another in a long line of totally taboo revelations that Melissa's senses kept telling her, some locked away rational part that could just helplessly look on as things progressed. 'Melissa, your brother is tasting your—stuff, practically eating you out.' 'Melissa that is your own pussy you're tasting on your brother's, your god damn brother's tongue that you're kissing. And that is—oh my god, Denny is pushing his—thing—into—you—' And then the last corner of protest died away. As Denny's shaft sunk into her, sliding against the tight, slippery walls of her pussy, even the most shy and prudent part of her gave up and let the sensations guide the way into a night of forbidden lust and insane intensity that just would not stop. The first time there on the sofa was just that, an opening act, a fast, hard fuck to climax away all embarrassment and doubt. They rutted in panic and in unison, desperate to reach that high note, so that Denny could pump his semen inside of her. The ultimate debauchery, a rock bottom that would gave them the freedom to go on, to not care about a fucking thing and just get lost in each other's sex all night. Finally he came. With a loud moan, he buried his shaft inside of her and tensed up, his lips bore down on her neck and the first erupting spurt of cum, all the amazing implications of that finished act, sent Melissa over the same edge. Denny sunk down over her and limbs locked tightly around each other they allowed themselves to cool down for a minute. Denny lifted his head and looked down into his sister's eyes. A sudden pang of guilt came and went away as quickly, when she returned his worried gaze with a lovely little smile and warm, loving eyes. That was all it took for him to regain his erection, and another wordless rutting followed the first one. Everybody Wants a Soldier After his second orgasm inside of her he stood up and took her hands to raise her from the sofa. He gave her a soft kiss on the lips and a sly wink before walking away, leaving her there in her half dressed state, fresh fucked hairdo, and a load of cum slowly running down her thigh. Having just had an intense climax of her own, it was all she could do to just stand there. The room was suddenly alive with music. It came from the door of the bedroom, but filled out the living room nicely. A rolling, melodic baseline, some light strings and acoustic guitars and a mellow, relaxing down tempo beat. A hand on Melissa's back made her jump in surprise. Her little rational self had decided to wake up again and asked her what she was afraid of, it was just Denny. It seemed to have forgotten that it was a Denny fully intent on a night of limitless sex. Denny had sneaked up behind her and was unclasping her bra. He tossed it aside and diverted his attention to the skirt still clinging to her hips. It stayed in place no matter what he did though, until Melissa took his hands and guided them to a small zipper on the side. The skirt fell to the floor and Denny's hand stayed on her hips, then moved slowly to the front and down to her crotch. One finger sunk in, then another one pushed itself in beside it. His other hand cupped a breast and both hands pushed her body up tight against his. Of all the memories from that night, none was as firmly imprinted in Melissa's memory as the dance. Denny had only wanted to set the mood, but as Melissa began to sway with the music, her buttocks ground themselves against his cock. As it grew hard, the movement slipped it into her crack and she squeezed her butt cheeks around it. Denny started to match her movements, pushing the fingers in her pussy up against her clit to the tempo of the beat. It was a slow tune, and it didn't seem to ever end. So while swaying dream-like to the rhythm, rubbing back to chest, ass to shaft and hands to pussy, they managed to keep themselves in a delirious state of excitement, just under the threshold of orgasms. It was just a matter of time before one of them would snap and the tranquil moment would explode into a frantic rutting right there on the floor. It was torture, utter, delicious, delirious torture, but she was determined to hold out the longest. The only problem was, so was Denny. Neither would budge for half of that bloody CD filled with the same kind of erotically charged slow beat music. Half her world was filled with that incredible constant pleasure, and the other with agony over not reaching any further. Jaws were clenched, sweat was running, breaths were short. Melissa suddenly realized that she was biting her lip until she could taste blood. Then the music stopped. Finally, finally, Denny could not take it any more. He gave up a primal roar that in any normal state of mind would have terrified Melissa, but now she could just echo it with a frustrated scream of her own. Denny wrapped his strong arms around her, lifted her feet off the ground and ran into the bedroom where he threw her headfirst onto the bed. She tried to turn around, but he was too fast, and before she could even catch her breath, he had grabbed her legs from behind, pulled them apart and plunged his cock deep into her. She could only lie there, face down into the mattress, ass high and legs lifted wide and high as Denny ravaged her hole like a madman. She came in an instant, an explosion of sensation unlike anything she'd ever had in her life, her scream muffled by the pillow she had tried to desperately cling on to. Wave after wave of ecstasy, a Fourth of July in every nerve in her body. Denny just kept on going, stretching her legs in an almost painful position. But she didn't care. She was in the delirious last throes of her own orgasm when he slammed his body against her harder than ever before and shot yet another gush of hot white semen into her. They collapsed in a trembling heap of sweat and limbs, unable to speak, move or even think for several minutes. And the night had just begun. There were earnest missionary lovemaking in the bed, various samples of blowjobs and tongue work, wild doggy style humping in the kitchen and tender caressing of soapy skin under a hot shower. Melissa even let her brother break her last chastity barrier, and with a lot of sensual massaging, comforting murmured words and careful application of love juices as lubricant, Denny loosened up her virgin asshole with his fingers, and could finally claim her anal cherry. It hurt a bit at first, and a lot as he started to pull out of her, and move in and out as gently as he could. But Melissa clenched her fists and endured the discomfort, happy that Denny's moans told her just how wonderful it must feel for him. Eventually the pain numbed down and was replaced with a fantastic feeling of fullness. She could feel how the sensitive spots in her pussy were stimulated—but from behind, and whole new places of pleasure were revealed to her as Denny's cock pumped fully in and out of her in a steady pace. She couldn't help but wonder what it would feel like to have her pussy fucked at the same time. The next best thing, Denny's fingers, buried themselves in her snatch, and before she knew it all conscious thoughts were replaced by another earthquake orgasm. V. DAYS ROLL BY And now he was gone. The sounds of Denny's beat-up old Fiesta faded away in the distance, and with it the short fix of happiness that Melissa had clung on to that crazy night. He went from filling her every hole to becoming another kind of hole. A Denny shaped hole that nothing else could ever really fill. With a sigh Melissa turned and walked the steps up to her front porch where she sat down and wearily leaned herself against the wall. She stared emptily, in front of her as the early morning turned a little less early and the streets woke up. Reluctantly she started to realize that the magic summer was over and that real life was waiting around the corner. It was back to being just OK enough to get by. But she wasn't sure she would cope with that this time around. Not when she had had the taste of something more, something better than this. It wasn't the sex. That had just been a flimsy kind of silly, spur-of-the-moment thing. And what she felt for Denny was not that kind of love; she had no desire to throw herself into his arms again and give him her heart, soul and body. That fate, someone to marry, make babies with and live happily ever after with, belonged to someone else. She'd probably stumble into Prince Charming Enough some day and set that ball in motion. The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her feelings for Denny weren't something that she could even put into words. It was a connection that went beyond mere friendship, or maybe as deep as friendship could possibly go. A state of common ground that made everything easy, everything allowed. They had fucked like wild animals, brother and sister in a forbidden act that she knew should shock her, possibly even gross her out. But together they operated in a universe of their own where they set the rules. They had been horny and hot on doing each other. A nice way to say goodbye, nothing else. What they did or didn't do was nobody else's damn business to judge. Thinking back to the night before, the smells and sounds, the sensation of having man-meat sliding in and out of her made her all warm and fuzzy inside, and she felt a tingle of excitement between her legs. Well, no Denny to ask for an encore, but on the other hand, she didn't really need that particular guy for that. She dug into her bag and came up with a cell phone. Musing, she toggled down through the phonebook. There were enough willing old flames and one night stands in there to keep her busy until menopause. Alexander...no, she dumped him and he got pretty grumpy. She made a mental note to remove his number. Brett ...is at work all day. Brian ...too much ego, too little effort. She quickly skipped over the letter D and went on. Elian maybe? Yeah, that's it. Cute Colombian guy with an English sense of humor, drives cabs on odd hours, loves to go down on her. He'll do just fine. Plus, last time she slept with him, he had asked her if he could take her in the ass. She smiled to herself. Yes, today was Elian's lucky day. But not for several hours. She stood up, took one last sad look down the road where Denny had driven off, sighed a small sigh, and went inside. She needed a shower and a little more sleep before she could get a grip on things. She'd manage. Without her soul bro there, or that future someone to truly love, it would stop at just that. A dreary everyday bore, interrupted by the occasional carnal distraction. Oh well, she'd just have to make those frequent enough then. Pondering whether or not to call Elian up directly after she shower, she stepped into the bathroom, once again out of her clothes, and turned on the shower. While the steam flowed out from behind the plastic curtain, she stared into her big green eyes in the bathroom mirror. "Who the hell are you now, Mel?" she murmured, "Does your momma know that her son turned his daughter into an even bigger slut than she already was?" There was no answer, just her tired face looking back. Her make-up was everywhere, and there were hints of black rings under her eyes. No, she had to sleep. Elian could wait. Days and weeks and months rolled by, and small town life rolled on as if nothing significant had happened. To everyone but a young woman with green eyes, it really hadn't. It was just another dreary year of same-old with all its complete lack of ups and downs. At least that's how it looked to her. She realized that thousands of different stories took place behind closed doors of people's private spheres, the same way that nobody could guess what went on in her life, but it didn't feel as real as the vacuum in her chest. She went to work, she hung out with her circle of friends, or with her parents. She had taken over the rent lease of Denny's downtown apartment, which meant that she didn't need to sneak around as much with her little private army of lovers. Shortly after her brother's departure, she had decided to come clean and tell all the guys in her phonebook exactly what they meant, or rather didn't mean, to her. It had been convenient to keep new flirts in the dark about that she was already getting it good from several others, but she found if quite difficult to keep track of the white lies. So she met or called them up one by one with the same story, a blunt confession about how big a nympho she was and that, for the record, he was not the only guy to have access to a piece of her ass. Not by long shot. Some guys lost their marbles and broke up with her, despite the fact that there was nothing to break up. Others assured her that they had no problem at all with the situation. Then they never called. Two or three were instead so enthusiastic about her open sexuality that they mistook it for a green light to indulge in private perversions that she had no interest in. Despite her appetites, she was fairly traditional. She liked bodies against hers, hands on her skin and male cocks going in and out of her. So when one guy asked if she would do his virgin little brother, she accepted out of mere curiosity. He was pretty hot, but had been too shy for girls in High School. She found his blue-eyed appreciation and nervous fumbling quite endearing, and she patiently guided him through the basics of boy-in-girl action. But she was spoiled with men who knew what they were doing, so she was nowhere near satisfaction of her own. She faked a few orgasms to boost his confidence, but decided that that kind of charity was nothing for her. If she wanted adoration, she'd get a puppy. Other episodes were more annoyingly unpleasant. One guy by the name of Ramon kept trying to get her exclusively, and finally got angry when she refused. Melissa suspected that he had more feelings for her than he would admit, and one drunken night, this was confirmed by him making an ass out of himself in the streets outside her window, pouring out his undying love. Not really knowing what to do, she let him in and tried to shut him up with her pussy. But all that happened was that he curled himself into a little ball on the living room floor and begged her to role-play as his mommy, spank him and feed him her tits. Only the last part of that had any kind of appeal to Melissa, so she kindly poured whisky into the rambling man until he fell asleep. The next morning she tossed him out and told him not to call her. Realizing that his behavior the previous night had burned all possible bridges, he didn't try. Brett, a bit of a prick but with great skills in bed, decided to test her boundaries without even giving her a warning. She was laying on her back, waiting for him to enter her, when she felt a stream of his warm, smelly piss land on her stomach. She didn't say anything, just promptly pulled back a leg and stomped him squarely in the nuts. "Get dressed and get out, sicko," was all she said. She left him whimpering on her bed and went to take a shower. These episodes, and pretty much everything else that went on in her life, she shared with Denny. Her job had been her saving grace there. It wasn't posh and not well paid, but enough for her to eat, live on her own and pay the phone bill as well as a decent DSL connection to the internet. One of her bed-fellows was a bit of a computer whiz, and put together a fully functional PC from just spare junk he had lying around. She thanked him with a kiss and a blowjob. It was a little bit like prostitution, she pondered, but not really. It wasn't like she would have denied him that anyway. So now she phoned Denny every day, and with the yellow dot on her screen telling her that he was at home and online on Yahoo, it was almost as if he was there with her. A little silly late night banter with him over IM could take the edge off a bad day. It was on such a night that Denny once again changed the course of her existence. It was the end of April, and the spring was rushed forward into an unexpected wave of summer heat. The day in the grocery store had been hell. The sudden temperature peak had kicked the fridges and air conditioning into full gear—for a short while, before it blew the circuit board to ashes. With growing heat and growing panic, she had watched the deep frozen food and ice-cream turn first soft, then lukewarm and the vegetables starting to attract flies. They also started to attract annoying, complaining customers who couldn't get their heads around the concept that none of this was Melissa's fault. By the time the manager arrived with an electrician, it was late afternoon. The place was a sauna, and poor Melissa a soaked heap, sweaty from hauling down milk into the slightly cooler basement, on the verge of breakdown from complaints and stress, and just a distraction away from losing her breath. So when the boss started to scold her in his normal arrogant way about how she should have handled the situation, Melissa collapsed in a pile of sobs right in front of him. A little public display of what tear canals can produce can go a long way in scoring empathy points in the most insensitive of hearts, and the manager was no exception to that. He didn't quite know what to do with her, so he murmured a meek, "There, there ..." and slipped a fifty-dollar bill into her hand as some sort of compensation for the troubles; then he sent her home early. She had had plans for the night. First, coffee and chatter with one of her girlfriends, and later she'd call Elian and see if he wanted to come over for a good stuffing. Well, forget that. She was exhausted, sticky and smelled of decaying broccoli. All she wanted was to go home, take a soothing, cold shower and have a shameless threesome with Ben and Jerry in front of taped episodes of the Gilmore Girls. That was almost as good as sex, and much less demanding. But first she turned on the computer and logged on to see if Denny was there. More than anything she wanted to have her brother there so she could whine about her crappy day. But no, he was not online yet. She sighed and left the computer on. It was shower time, and she needed to eat something. He'd probably come on later tonight. She promptly stripped out of her dense, moist clothes. Her panties were so soaked she had to peel them off, and not in a good way. She stepped into the shower and let a rain of cooling drops cover her skin. Three hours later, Denny had still not logged on. She absently wondered where he was. He took his studies pretty seriously, and didn't indulge in the plentitude of parties and endless supply of beer kegs that some thought was the purpose of those years. He might have charmed the pants off some cute nineteen year old first year chick with his boyish smile and solid biceps, and be busy giving her what Melissa had had the pleasure of sampling. It happened now and then, and Denny was just as open in reporting what happened in that field as Melissa was. Feeling fresher now, cleaned up, cooled down and well fed, she wasn't too bummed out about her day any more. She plopped herself down on the couch, attacked a large ice-cream cup with a king size spoon and turned on the TV. She still longed to hear that familiar "ping" that would tell her that her brother was trying to reach her, but it wasn't as if she was desperate. Around midnight, she woke up. Somewhere in the middle of the excitement on the TV screen, her eyes had given up and she had simply folded to the side in the couch. The ice cream cup stood safely on the table in front of her, but she still held on to the spoon. Groggily, she stretched after the remote, and managed to turn the TV off. She shook away the cobwebs of sleep enough to get up, brush her teeth and pour herself into a proper bed instead. From the corner of her eye she noticed that the computer was on. She stumbled over to turn it off. There was a whole set of little IM messages there from Dinky, Denny's cheesy online handle that he had used so long that he couldn't remember why he chose it. The first one dated three hours back and was a simple "Hello!" then one minute later "I said, hello!" Then there were variations on that theme for another five messages. The last one, time stamped to have been sent some 30 minutes ago said "Call me when you see this, any time. I've got news". It ended in a cute little dancing smiley, so she guessed it wasn't bad news then. She threw herself on the phone, hammered in his number on the worn down buttons, apologized to an old lady for calling the wrong number in the middle of the night, carefully entered the right number, and was greeted with Denny's voice on the other end of the line. "Hello?" "Greetings, sir. My name is Melissa and I am calling from the national pestering-in-the-middle-of-the-night service. You have requested a phone call at, quote, any time, unquote, and we hope that this late hour suits those specifications." "Hey, Mel." "Hey, bro. Did I wake you up?" "Not really, I've been trying to sleep, but I think I overdosed on caffeine earlier today, and it's not wearing off. Is everything ok over there? You didn't reply." "Well, I did fall asleep. On the couch." "Rough day?" "The worst. Everything went to hell in a hand basket, no electricity, credit card links were down, two billion evil customers, and I was the only one there. I actually started crying in front of the boss when he showed up. That was really embarrassing." "Poor baby. Are you feeling better now?" "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine," she said and she was, now that Denny was on the line, "But enough about that. You had news?" "You bet. How do you feel about college?"