15 comments/ 46528 views/ 36 favorites Summer of Sibling Madness By: MSTarot Sibling Madness between July 4th Street and Labor Day Avenue. Life can go to extremes from just the simplest push. A slight tipping away from what is normal, what is expected, or planned for and whammy, you're in a shit storm looking for an umbrella. Now ... some people ... will tell you, that when such happens, it is best to ride out the "unusual situation" and let life return to normal. Let it find its own balance. Others disagree. So ... what exactly is the advice for when your sister tried to kill herself on the Fourth of July? Just ride it out? I mean I'm sure that when someone you've loved for decides has taking a full bottle of sleeping pills, chasing it down with the better part of a bottle of vodka, and then--in a drug and alcohol fueled haze--tried to slit her wrist, you should probably just ... ride it out. Right? Um ... no. I am thankful to say that I still have a sister named Adele. That she is no longer trying to make her exit-stage-right from life, and that life has finally returned to some kind of normal. If, by normal, you would accept that I have not seen the noon sun in a month. That I now dress all in black, and live in what, more and more often, looks like the set from the Adam's family TV show. I also now spend most of my nights in a fetish club or a tattoo parlor. And I'm sleeping with my sister. So yeah, normal-ish. I probably should explain. Well, to begin with my name is Cody. That's the name I was born with and had thought I would die with ... but ... well, as things would happen... Sorry, yeah that really isn't the beginning. I guess I need to start where the insanity started. It began, for me at least, on the Fourth of July, with a note. "When your heart tells you the impossible and your head agrees that impossible, then nothing else in the world matters. When what you want doesn't matter, what you desire doesn't matter, then it's all just crap. This world is crap, everything about it is crap. You want to do something and everyone tells you that you can't. That it's wrong. Even while your own body is telling you that it's right? How fucked up is that? I'm done. I've had it with this whole fucking place and everything in it. I've shit in my own future, past and present to the point I don't want any of them anymore. No more past, no more present and sure as hell no more future." Let me tell you when you find that kind of note, in the shakiest hand writing I had ever seen my sister produce, weighed down with an empty bottle of sec barbitals (that's those lipstick red Seconals "Jack" is asking his dickhead doctor for, for all you fans of Fight Club) you jump to conclusions. "ADELE!" Racing through the house like a mad man I tore the place apart trying to find my sister. Her room, mom's room, my room and then the kitchen. When I heard running water, and my feet slid on wet hardwood, I had my clue. The bathroom door was locked, but that lock was secured in nothing but a simple pine wood frame. A strong, determined man could have gone through it by ramming his shoulder into it, two or three times. A panicked, raving, loon like I was at that time? Well, I'm surprised there were even splinters left. The tile floor was awash with water, with even more rolling like Niagara over the side of the tub. But then Niagara has never been a bright red. "ADELE!" I crashed into the side of the tub and lifted her in my arms, naked, from the water. That so very, very, red water. As I turned on my knees, to lay her on the floor, I noticed the thick trickle of blood flowing from her wrist to pool in the palm of her hand. I was screaming her name as I grabbed a towel and tried to stop that flow. The bit of damp terry cloth was almost instantly soaked. Red squished between my fingers as I tried to hold it tighter. I heard my name being called from by the front door. "Cody?" "MOM! HELP!" "Cody what the matter?" I heard something knocked over in the kitchen then a gasp that turned into a scream. "Oh, no! Adele, no! NO!" "Dial nine-one-one!" I yelled at my mom, holding my sister's wrist with all the pressure I could apply. Mom, normally a queen of panic first act later, for once in her life did it in the right order. She was screaming into her cell phone telling some operator that her baby had cut her wrist and to send an ambulance. I held my eighteen year old sister, rocking her in my arms, thinking "baby?" I had to hope that the nine-one-one operator at least got Adele's age from Mom, before the twit dissolved completely into hysterical tears and useless blame-naming. As I looked at Adele's pale face, I dismissed my mother from my thoughts, as thoroughly as she had dismissed the two of us after Dad's death. Let the woman go hide in a bottle till after the paramedics got here for all I cared now. As I whispered my sister's name by her wet hair, I could hear mom talking to herself, already placing the blame for this on everyone's door but her own. It was the music Adele listened to. It was the friends she hung out with. It was the teachers at the school she went to, putting so much pressure on kids these days, failing Adele in her senior year "For God's Sake!" She also said it was my fault. Dad's fault. The moon's fault. It was "That damn Goth girl, Kelly's fault." As I lightly kissed Adele's temple, and tasted copper on my lips, I knew Mom had at least part of it right. This was about Kelly, more so than Mom knew. Hearing sirens, I fished a towel from the bar overhead and covered my sister's bare chest and hips. I knew she would not want them to see her like this. Yes, I knew it was partly Kelly's fault, but I couldn't blame her. There was no point in blaming the dead. Even when I knew it was my sisters' love, for that girl, that made her want to chase her into the grave. That's what that letter must have meant. "When your heart tells you the impossible, and your head agrees..." what else could that mean? My dear sister had been in love with another girl and that girl had died in a car crash just days ago. "Silly fool," I whispered. "No one would have cared." I pulled her tighter to me and held her bleeding wrist all the tighter still. I was holding her like that when the kitchen suddenly filled up with blue-on-blue uniformed men carrying red and white tackle boxes. In fact those men had a hard time talking me into letting her go. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** Looking back on that night, I can see now why my confusion about the letter was so easily arrived at. I mean, up until till that point, I had always thought of my sister was the stable one of the two of us. The normal one, I guess would be a better way of saying it. I was the head banger, grunge, death-metal guy with the red tribal tats. She was the, yeah slightly odd "Goth" type, true but when compared to me? Vanilla normal. Well, I was wrong it would seem ... or maybe not, given that I'm currently dressed in black leather pants in the middle of August. A lot happened in the next few weeks after that night of blood, pills, and depression. Adele awoke in the hospital, her arm bandaged like a mummy, with me sitting beside her holding the other hand. The one with the handcuff hooking her to the bed. "Cody?" "No, I'm the fucking archangel Gabriel." Leaning in, I looked her in her sleep-drugged-glassy eyes. "Welcome to the afterlife, will you have smoking or nonsmoking?" With as much as her body had been through, with all the crap they had pumped out of her stomach, and with two dozen staples holding her tattered wrist together, she looked at me and slowly smiled. I placed my finger on my lips and moved it to touch that smile. "If you can smile, for whatever reason in this world, then it is not time for you to die." When she went to look away from me I moved my finger to under her chin and turned her back to face me. "Do you hear me? It is not your time. Don't you ever do this again. If for no other reason than that you are, my, only reason to smile." "I love you," she said softly. The words choked out. Her throat was no doubt dry from the ordeal it had to endure to get the drugs out her stomach. "And I love you." I took her hand back in mine. "I'm sorry about Kelly, but that's life. You have friends, you love them, some more than others, but they have their own time under the sun. You can't end your life because their time has ended. Even if you were in love with them." Adele looked at me puzzled for a second, even as her eyes were getting heavier, and then shook her head as sleep was taking her. Curious as to what that meant, I sat back to waited on her to wake up again. ** ** ** ** ** ** The next few days were stressful for me, terrible for her and probably a drunken haze for Mom. I can't say for sure about Mom. I moved out the moment I heard her drunken complaints about where half a bottle of her vodka had gone. I never wanted my relationship with my mother to be this way. Never. I've tried to get her older brothers and sisters to help me. It's a pity to say it, but they have washed their hands to her. I often wished grandpa was still around. That man could at least make his daughter listen. But then if I was wishing for people, that have passed to come back ... I guess, wishing for Dad to come back would be the one we needed the most. He had been the cornerstone of Mom's life. Not us. Not her children. In a drunken rant, one night not long after his death, she had confessed to not wanting us. To nearly aborting me. To having been begged by our father to carry first me, and then later Adele to term. My sister had exploded into rage at that statement, but for me it had been a cold burn. Cold anger not hot. A sliver of ice that took up that place in my heart where my Mother had always lived. It was from that moment that I felt like an orphan. Anyway, back to Adele ... they held Adele for seventy two hours, while doctor after doctor, psychiatrist after psychiatrist took a poke and prod at her mental health. It was a coin toss there for those few days as to whether or not she was going to end up in a mental institution for more observation and treatment. There were promises from her, and from me, requirements from her to contact people several times a week. A nurse was to come by the new apartment--that I had by that time rented for the two of us--for a month to make sure Adele took all her medications. Then at the end of August, she was to be reexamined. And possibly a whole new course of treatment might be in the offering. There was one question however, in the middle of all this, that caught me off guard. It was on the one day that I saw my mother in a somewhat lucid state. The doctor had asked our mother if Adele kept a diary. Mom had said no. I knew that was wrong. She did. It wasn't in paper form, it was kept on her computer. I had seen the file while working on her computer one night, stored with what she must have thought a clever file heading. It was the address of our first house, and my birthday in numbers. I didn't at that time have a need to open it, I was up to my digital-nose in a Conduit Virus, but when I mentioned it to her she said that it was private thoughts. Later that night, was when mom got drunk and asked about the missing bottle of vodka, had I grabbed my stuff and for some reason Adele's computer. I spent the night asleep in the parking lot of the hospital and went in to see my sister at the first moment I was allowed. "I moved out of Mom's. It isn't worth the hassle just to save a few dollars," I told her as I took a seat next to her. They had uncuffed her arm after that first day, but there was still a hospital security guard standing nearby. What they figured she would do I don't know. There was nothing in the room sharper than a rubber band. Adele shook her head and snapped at me. "Cody, there is no way you can pay the rent on an apartment and keep up with your classes! The repair shop doesn't pay enough for that." She sat up in the bed a bit, and I heard the guard's key ring rattle as he moved in the hall behind us. Eavesdropping no doubt. "I'll make do," I told her. "No. You have to have the System's Administration Degree to keep the job. That was the deal Uncle Michael made with you. He maybe our uncle but he is a pain in the butt first. And a business man before any of that. It you don't finish those classes, you won't have the bachelor's degree he said you had to get to keep working for him." "I know the job," I said, absently smoothing out the blanket over her legs. I felt her knee under the cloth so I stopped. "I can do it without the classes." "He won't let you," she said shaking her head. I heard a steady beep behind her start to go faster. "I'll tell him it's just for a few months. Till I can get some money saved up. Then, I'll start taking the classes again." I snorted. "I'll lay it all on mom's drinking, he'll understand that." "Why did you move out?" she asked suddenly. Very reluctantly I told her what had happened. When the nurses arrived, in response to her crying, I was asked to leave and the guard stepped into the room to make sure I did. Adele told them not to make me leave, that it wasn't my fault, but they kept insisting that I go. It didn't come to the point of his hand on me, physically escorting me out, but it was getting close enough to it that I told Adele I would call her later and left. It was only once I was in the parking lot that I remember that I had neither looked at, nor asked her about, her diary file. On the computer I had left up in her hospital room. Pissed, at far too many things to list, I spent the rest of that day apartment hunting. For places in my price range. I called Adele at lunch to see how she was doing. She told me she had talked to Mom on the phone. Then ... she told me to go by Mom's house and get her stuff. That she was moving in with me, so I needed to make sure I go a place with at least two bedrooms. This change of planned living arrangements would cause a few problems with the psychiatrists. They somehow seemed to think that a change of scenery, and her not being in the house where she tried to end her life, would somehow be a bad thing. They also had some reservations about me looking after her instead of our mother. A woman that would possibly sell the two of us for a case of liquor. Have I mentioned I think my sister's doctors are quacks? I cannot believe how much effort it took to get a woman out of a hospital bed and into a place to live, where someone not only loves her, but was promising to look after her. You would have thought she was leaving to go live in a crack house with a drug dealer, who was going to pimp her out for twenty bucks a pop. That was the feeling I was given. It wasn't the apartment; it's in a nice section of town. It wasn't even me, true I'll admit my record isn't perfect but all my wild oats were sewed when I was in my mid-teens. Maybe, it was the few tattoos that I have left from those days. Okay, more than a few. An even dozen sure and they are large, but it's not like they are on my neck or anything. The point is ... the point is, she's my sister, and I love her. And I wanted to look out for her. Which is a hell of a lot more than that self-absorbed drunk, that reluctantly brought us into this world, can claim. I had a place where Adele could stay. It was safe, it was nice. It was not too far from where she works ... if she still had a job there. I mean most places like a bit of notice before you take that much time off ... especially when it's because you tried to kill yourself. Right? But her doctors were giving us hell about it. Stethoscope wearing fucktards. ** ** ** ** ** ** Well, it turned out that she in fact did not still have a summer job. That not only had Adele been fired for not showing up, but that her place there had already been filled. By the boss' high school freshman niece. When I went by there, to get Adele's last paycheck, if I'm any judge, I would have to say that the niece may have already been filled by the boss as well. She came off with that whole "I'm a jailbait slut, but someone has to be" kind of attitude. Not that I had long to talk to her. I was ushered into the back and then the bastard that had fired my sister wanted to know what was going on with her. I believe "fuck off" was about the nicest thing I had to say to him at that point. Hard to say, I was shouting through a haze of red, with a throbbing of blood making my temples hurt. The police officer, who escorted me out the building, was very nice though. He even said he understood. I really think he did at that. He didn't arrest me after all. Adel's boss had certainly been telling him to do that, probably because of the cup of hot coffee I threw into his face. ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** "I'm fairly sure I remember something in our lease agreement about not painting the walls odd colors." Standing in the living room, with a sack full of burritos and tacos from Taco Hell, I have to say I was a bit ... surprised. I mean, the walls of my new apartment were not black when I left. "There is nothing odd about black." Adele, placed her paint brush in a Ziploc baggy and climbed down off the step ladder. "Is that dinner? I'm starving. Day, after day, of nothing but hospital food. Bleeck!" Looking at my paint-smeared sister, I had to smile. She actually looked ... well, if not happy per-say then ... better. I took another glance around the room at the flat black walls. Well, if this is what it takes to get her to loving life again, so be it. We gathered at the little newspaper covered kitchen table. I moved a few empty gallon paint cans out the way and then held out a chair for her. "Oh, how formal. Why, thank you sir." She wiggled herself into the seat. "Would madam like to see the wine list? I can't say we have anything that pairs well with bean burrito, but I'm sure arrangements could be made to send out for some Arbor Mist." I handed her a soda from the second bag. "I'll have the MD20/20, my good man! Only the fines in low-grade alcohols for a feast like this." She opened up her first burrito and started burying it in mild sauce. "Did you get me any Cinnamon twists ... oh, you remembered. Love my brudder!" "Uh, huh. Yeah. Heard that one before." Crunching my way through the first of my tacos, I looked at the walls. They were not fully painted yet and already the room was shadowy. The bare bulbs, in the three lamps, were now struggling to light the room. "You know how dark it's going to be in here when you're finished right? You will need a flood light just to read a book." She nodded, her mouth full of beans. I watched her tongue chase red sauce off the corner of her lips. "I'll brighten it up with some things I have been looking at over the years, but that Mom would have never allowed in her house. I have this really cool lighting affect I want to try. You use sticks, painted white, and a bulb to make shadows on the walls. It looks like trees." I fell silent for a bit. As much because I was struggling to keep fragile corn shells from breaking as anything, but a growing thought began to nag me again. It was a question I had been avoiding since she woke up at the hospital. "Sis, I want to ask you about ...." "I don't want to talk about it," she cut me off sharp. I looked up at the tone to find her looking right back at me. "Not ever. The scars are enough of a reminder that I can't get anything in my life right, not even my death. I do not want to discuss why I'm a complete failure." "Do what?" I set my half-eaten food down. "Just how the hell do you figure that your life is a failure? It's just getting started. You're not even nineteen yet!" Summer of Sibling Madness "We're not talking about this remember," she said. I was about to deliver a rather heated reply to that. Have I mentioned that, as much as I love her, my sister and I can get into some truly incredible arguments? Anyway what stopped the tirade in progress was a knock at the door. Adele, rolled her eyes and hopped up with a mutter about "Always when I'm eating." I was back to eating my dinner when she opened the door and twin screams sounded behind me. Spinning in my chair, I was expecting murder, death and mayhem. My sister hugging a tall woman and being hugged back was not it what I thought was going to be happening. The woman pulled back from the hug after a second, smiled at Adele. Lifted my sister's chin a little with her finger and then slapped the shit out of her! "Bitch, if you ever try to kill yourself again ... I swear, I will come finish the job. You hear me, Adele?" The tall woman stepped past my--still holding her cheek and blinking--sister, and began to look around the room. Her eyes settled on me. "And just who is this piece of lusciousness? Have you been hiding some new man-meat from me? Doubly naughty girl." "I'm Cody," I said, after swallowing far too much food too quickly. I got to my feet. "And you would be?" She fluttered her long fake eyelashes at me. "Well, the boys in the band call me Mrs. Night, but you handsome can call me MaryDee." She looked over her shoulder at Adele. "Are you going to close the door, or are we going to be holding this party in the hallway?" Adele closed the door, on autopilot, and then looked to me. She smiled, and then shook her head when I silently mouthed the word "Party?" "Mary, this is my brother I told you about." She looked to me, and grinned at the look on my face. "I called Mary to see if she would come by and help me decorate." "Because your sister has all the decorating skills of a penguin. Now, let's see all these ideas you've gather together. Oh, dinner, how thoughtful," said MaryDee. She grabbed the bag of tacos from the table. As I watched the rest of my taco dinner walk off into the back bedroom with my sister and her friend, I finally started to get over the feeling I had just been steamrollered. My eyes dropped to the woman's ass, by reflex habit, just as she stepped around the corner, and out of my sight. I finally began to take in what she looked like. Black stretch denim hugging her curves like a lover, while a white spaghetti-string tank top left her with her back almost bare and her cleavage prominently displayed. Her hair, in a long Calico colored braid, was hanging out from under a military red beret hat. Abso' fuckingly gorgeous! That her beret had sported an "Airborne" patch slowly filtered into my reviving mind. I could hear her and my sister laughing from the backroom, and then they were coming back out into the hall. "Yeah, I'm sure that would work. I've seen it done in a few night clubs to good effect." MaryDee paused, leaned a shoulder in against the door frame into the living room and looked me up and down. "Oh, hello again angel. Would you mind doing a lady a big favor? There is a fabric store on Lacienica, do you know the one I mean? Good, I need about forty yards of royal blue crushed velvet. Ten yards of white, and five yards of silver. And, if you think you can find something tasteful, about ten yards of white lace. Nothing gaudy, just old school granny style bobbin lace. Can you remember all that? Excellent! Here, put it on this. There should still be about a grand left on that card." I took the silvery credit card she shoved into my hand. Looked at it, blinking, for a second then got out my wallet. I was about to leave, to go get me something else for dinner as much as anything, when I remembered. "I won't be able to sign for this card," I said. "Honey, I wouldn't have given it to you if that would have been a problem. The sweet gray haired ladies that work there will know who sent you the moment they see that card." MaryDee smiled then crossed to stand right in front of me. A business card appeared in her right hand with a magician card trick type flare. "If you have any problems just call me." She winked. With that feeling of having been railroaded out of my own apartment lurking in the back of my head, I started down the steps. I stopped as visual memory caught up with me. I pulled the Silver ... no Platinum Visa card and business card from my wallet. "Oliver West...?" ** ** ** ** ** ** ** Over the next three days I could have gotten more rest in a New York subway station. I spent almost every waking moment, when I was not at work or at school, trying to hold onto my sanity. Between them Adele and Mrs. MaryDee Night, oh my lord, turned what had been a simple modernistic apartment into a scene right out of Elvira's Haunted Hills. A movie, which by the way, I swear was playing on repeat for most of that three days. The black walls were just the start of things. There were huge drapes of cloth hung from walls, draped from the center of the ceiling to the corners, laid across the backs of furniture. If it could be covered in some form of dark velvet or scratchy lace it was covered. Then the two of them disappeared for half a day and I thought I might have a break. Nope. "Cody," said the sassy voice on the other end of the line. "Darling, would you be a dear and come help us get this stuff up the stairs. I'm in need of a big strong man to help me move... a few things." Take a breath. Let it out slowly. "Yeah. Be right down," I said after a short ten count. "Oh, thank you." All Marilyn Monroe purr. "I'll find some way to make this all up to you, I swear. You have been such a doll. Yeah, he's coming down." Click. Now, I want you to know that at no point have I regretting saving my sister's life. I have not regretted that at all. Nor have I regretted asking her to move in. I did ask her to do that didn't I? I can't remember. Anyway, there are no regrets about any of that. But why, oh why, did I not put my foot down over the black wall paint? That was the critical moment when my life began to go insane. With a sigh, I stuck my feet in my shoes and headed down to help bring up ... stuff. Hindsight it's such a bitch. Okay, somebody rented a U-haul. Well of course they did. You can't hope to move that much second-hand furniture and thrift store finds without a U-haul. I wanted to sigh, but what was the point. I did manage to smile when Adele looked out the back of the truck and grinned at me. "We brought dinner. You do still like Chinese, right?" She asked me as she handed out a black and silver ceramic urn. There I was leaned forward to take it, my hands full, when a hand caressed my ass right down the middle. Turning, startled, I saw MaryDee grinning at the look on my face. "If he doesn't I might could get him something in second-generation Italian for him to snack on." Ignoring the flirty ... woman ... I headed back upstairs with the urn. Sitting it down in the living room, I turned to go back and found MaryDee was right behind me. She sat down the headboard of an antique brass bed with an ease that showed a lot for strength in her tall frame. That face, which I had at one point thought so intriguingly sexy, was very serious. "Cody, I want to talk for a second. About Adele." "What about her?" I asked. "About what she tried to do. Has she told you why?" I shook my head. "She said she didn't want to talk about it. That it proved she was a failure because she didn't succeed." MaryDee stood silent for a second then nodded. "I can see how she might would think that. In her place, with the problems she had, I probably would have done the same as her. But I would have succeeded. I'm a bit more a gun-in-the-mouth type than pills and razor blades. Look, I know what drove her to that point, it's her story to tell so I won't speak of it ... but, you need to know this. You were at the very heart of it." "What?" There were hurried steps on the stairs. "Hey are you two making out up here? It's starting to sprinkle. Come on, get it in gear." She sat down one of the rails of the bed then rushed back outside. MaryDee went to follow her but stopped at the door. She looked back at me and that flirty smile reappeared. "Later," she said softly so my sister just below her wouldn't hear. I walked to the door then out onto the landing, looking down at the two of them rushing through the drizzle to the U-haul. They were laughing. My sister was laughing. I heard the subject and my face flushed a bit. My sister was laughing. "I was at the center of it?" I asked myself, in a soft, breathy whisper. A cat call from MaryDee broke my chain of thought. The lewd sexual suggestion that followed it, from my sister, was purely vulgarity. And physically impossible. ** ** ** ** ** ** "No ... no, seriously. I felt like my eyeballs were ... floating! And there I am, the ladies room was packed, with a line out the door, half way down the hall and nearly across the street to Macy's. So I was like, 'What the hell, any piss pot in a storm right?' I mean my birth certificate still lists me as being a male. So I tuck my purse under my arm and, while whistling Karma Chameleon, I walked into the men's room." MaryDee smiled and shook her head. With a twinkle in her eyes she took a sip of wine. "You could hear the guys yelping, from catching their sacks in zippers in fear that a ... lady ... might see them with their cocks out. One of them though, and there is always one, comes over towards me. 'Hey, doll. I think you wandered into the wrong watering hole.' giving me this leering smile the whole time." Adele started to laugh giving me the clue that she had heard this part at least once before. "He's standing there with his pants still unbuttoned, half unzipped, his tighty-whities showing in all their stained glory. He was looking at me like I'm his personal fuck slave and that I just simply walked in here to drop to my fishnet covered knees and blow his cock. So ..." MaryDee glances over at me to make sure I'm still listening. "I smile at him, slip my shoulder so the spaghetti strap slipped off down my arm and half my right tit was ready to pop out. I saunter past him, raking my hand across his crotch as I pass, to a urinal. Up flips the black mini skirt, out pops Mr. Friendly and I let fly with the longest piss of my life. And I was making sounds like I was coming, it felt so damn good to finally go. Meg Ryan, in When Harry Met Sally, had nothing on me, honey. Anyway, after I finally get finished, I turned to look and the restroom was empty. With a packed sports bar, full of beer drinking guys needing to piss, I had cleared the men's room." My sister was laughing so hard she leaned just a bit too far in her bean bag chair and tumbled to the floor. That took me beyond chuckling to laughing myself. But then the two bottles of champagne, the better part of a bottle of rum, and two passed around joints of some exceedingly good weed could make anything funny. Hell, between MaryDee's seemingly endless supplies of bar stories, and my sister's surprising stories from her high school years, they were making my sides hurt. Sitting on the carpeted floor in the back bedroom, Adele's room to be, surrounded by boxes that we had given up on opening about two hours back, I began to see my sister. Not as the often bratty little hellion she had been through our youth. Nor the drama princess she spent so much time being in high school. This was Adele. This was my sister as she really was. Laughing with friends. A little dark and maybe a bit twisted she might be, but a woman grown. With her twenties just a year or so from being upon her. All of her life ahead of her to enjoy ... and she tried to kill herself? And I'm at the center of it? Suddenly the enjoyment of this impromptu party faded from me. Why? Why had she done that? If I had been just minutes slower getting home I would be visiting a grave to put flowers on fresh earth. Mourning a sister, cold in the grave, instead of sitting and drinking with her till my head was spinning. Why? And she didn't want to talk about it? I looked over at MaryDee, she ... He? She? ... what the fuck ever! ... knew, but wouldn't tell me cause it was Adele's story to tell. But Adele didn't want to tell it. Not to me. Not to me, who was somehow in the center of it? Bullshit! MaryDee looked over at me and saw the look in my eyes. I saw that a lot of her inebriation was an act because it fell away almost instantly. She glanced over at Adele then back at me. After a second she nodded. "Well, speaking of rising sea levels I've got to visit the little tranny's room." The slight stumble as she got to her bare feel may have been an act, but then she had drank at least the better part of one of those bottles of champagne by herself. Plus, come to think of it, several shots of rum. "Feel free to talk about me behind my back; I love attention from ... behind." When she was out the room I listened to the growing silence that enveloped my sister and me. There was one of those pin drop moments, broken only by the humming of a song from down the hall. I was just starting to recognize the tune when Adele looked up at me, then away really quickly. "I probably need to go throw away these bento boxes, before they leak soy sauce everywhere. Oh, damn." She groaned as she tried to get up out the beanbag chair and failed. "Why the hell did I eat so much chicken lo mein?" "Adele, why did you try to kill yourself?" She stopped trying to get up for about a second then decided to ignore me and got to her feet. I saw her start to fall and was up and next to her in less than a second. I caught her arm and pulled her in as her balance shifted. It was then that my own inebriated balance decided to play a part and, with us tangled together, we both tumbled, onto the mattress we thankfully hadn't gotten to put the bed together for yet. I tried to turn as I fell, and I felt her grab at me to try and stop her fall, but gravity and alcohol again displayed their dominance over human wishes. As the springs bounced and compressed under us, I found myself looking up at my sister's face. Her eyes were wet with tears. She tried to pull away but I caught her and didn't let her move. "Why?" I asked, softly but determined. "Don't, please," she begged. I held tight, refusing to give in. She looked away unable to meet my eyes. "I was just in a bad place in my life and that seemed like the only thing to do. Leave it at that ... please." "Was it about Kelly? I know her getting killed in that car crash hurt you, but it wasn't that badly was it? Were you two lovers?" "No! I'm not a lesbian, Cody. Now let me up please." She tried again to move but I didn't let her. "Please!" "I will when you tell me why?" I promised. "Then we're never going to get up again because ... I DON'T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT!" she screamed at me. "Why!" I demanded. She fell silent and looked away from me. "Because she was in love with someone the world said she could not have." I looked over at MaryDee standing in the door, leaning against the frame, watching us. She smiled and walked over to join us on the mattress. More crashing down next to us than sitting, she put her back to the wall and picked up the nearly empty bottle of rum. "She was in love ... but couldn't tell him how she felt. The civilized world frowns upon such things, you see." MaryDee killed the last of the rum in one long pull. Adele sniffled and when she tried to sit up I let her, but didn't turn loose of her arm. I pulled myself up till I was sitting with Adele between MaryDee and myself. My sister looked so very nearly as pale she had in the hospital and it rung my heart. I noticed her rubbing at the two pink, crisscrossing, half-healed scars on her wrist. I grabbed her hand when the nails began to dig at the reddening lines. "Please talk to me." I pulled her around to face me by that hand, and then kissed the fingers. "Sis, I love you ... please tell me why I nearly lost you," I begged. Adele looked up at me like I had struck her. A thunderous pop sounded next to us startling us both. Looking over, MaryDee was trying to follow the flight of the third champagne cork to pop tonight as it bounced off the wall. When she looked down she saw us looking at her and look a sip, wine bubbles spilling down her chin to land on her breasts. "Here, my Lovely. Some liquid courage." She handed the bottle to Adele. My sister looked at it almost as if she didn't recognize what it was then took a long slow sip. Then a second. As she wiped the bubbly foam from her lips she handed it to me. "You're going to want a sip, or two, if you're going to hear me telling you this," Adele said completely monotone. "Want me to break the news, my dear?" MaryDee offered. "I can deliver the Candy-gram to him without all the song and dance." Adele sat quietly for a second then nodded. She grabbed the bottle back from me and took a long sip, all but snorting bubbles out her nose as her mouth fizzed up too full. "Well," MaryDee began "About a month before our silly fish here tried to put an end to every little problem, except where to send the flowers, she was at a party at my place. She was far drunker than she is now. She was all 'tears in her beer' that night. A total downer for the party, but then it was winding down by that point anyway. Anyway, I got her into one of my back bedroom so she could sleep it off." Mary reached over and took the wine bottle from Adele. "I was bringing her back a bottle of water and some aspirin for the hangover, when I heard her crying. Not in the bedroom, but in the bathroom across the hall. You see that bloody scene at your mother's house was her second attempt to kill herself." "What?" Adele nodded.Took a sip then handed the bottle back to MaryDee, who used it to point at my sister. "Luckily for you my pink Lady Chic razor was totally inappropriate as a tool of self-destruction. Silly twit." I will swear to my dying day I did not laugh. My lips may have twitched but I did not laugh. The 'eat shit' look, that Adele gave me at that point, would have been appropriate for me belly laughing on the floor, not for lip twitching. MaryDee looked back as me and nodded agreeing that it had been a silly thing to do. "Anyway, I walk in and she is sitting on my lovely Italian marble floor trying to figure out why her wrist is so kissable smooth and not bloody. I took it away from her and got her back across the hall, then sat down to find out what the hell was going on. That was when she told me." MaryDee lifted her hand laid it on my sister's shoulder and pulled Adele to her easily. My sister laid her head in MaryDee's lap and the lady began to pet that dyed, blue-black hair softly. Adele snuggled her face into the warm skin and frilly-white seam of those "tight" denim jeans shorts MaryDee had worn today. MaryDee looked up from caressing my sister's hair, her eyes settled on me. "She told me she was in love. I guess, her knowing all the crap I had been through in my early years, prompted her to be truly honest with me." My sister whimpered. "Shush, lovely. It'll be alright." Her eyes came back to me. "You see, Cody, she's in love with you." A soft smile, with neither pity nor amusement, graced her lips then. "Her beloved older brother. Quite possibly the only man, other than her father, that a woman in this modern 'dare-not-to-offend' world, could say she was in love with and the world wouldn't wave a flag to support." I might have very well sat there for the rest of the night waiting for that to sink in had not Adele begun to really cry. After the earlier laughter tears from her were more than I could take. Summer of Sibling Madness "It's alright. Adele ... it's okay," I said softly. "No. No, it's not." She clutched at MaryDee's leg, hugging the pale, shapely thigh to her cheek. "It's bent and twisted, sick and just wrong." MaryDee started to laugh. "Hun, do I have to remind you whose leg you are clutching at?" MaryDee took hold of Adele's hair and gave her head a little shake by those blue-black locks. "Welcome to the world the rest of us freaks live in. You have no idea how happy we are you decided to join us." Reaching over, I laid my hand on Adele's shoulder. "Please talk to me. When did this happen?" I asked Adele was quiet for so long I thought she wasn't going to answer me. Then she wiped at her eyes and slowly sat up. She looked at me then looked back at MaryDee. Her friend nodded encouragement. When she looked back at me her face was so terribly woeful, I reached over and took her hand. She looked down at my fingers in hers and slowly nodded to some inner conversation she was having with herself. "Not long after Dad died. When Mom began to drift away from us. I was so lost, so terribly lost ... but you were there. Whenever I needed ... anything, you were there. I know I wasn't being nice to you at that time. I was so torn up with what was going on. I need someone to lash out against. To cuss for the fact that the world had taken our father from us so soon. Mom wouldn't even make the effort to talk to me. Then there was her drinking, the long disappearances. I didn't even want to talk to her before long. All I wanted was to just curl up in a ball and die. To be with Dad. He had understood me. He had cared." She tightened her fingers on mine. "But then you were there, just as he had been. You made me get up and go to school, made me do my homework, came after me if I stayed out to late." "You are my sister. It's part of being family. Mom may have forgotten that but I never will." I said after a second of silence. "But that doesn't mean I'm someone you should love, not in that way." "Why?" asked MaryDee. I looked up sharply at me. "Why not? Love is love. That's not the issue. It's the physical. Just how that love is express that the world wouldn't understand. But why should two people that love each other have limits?" "Because it's not natural," I said after a moment. "Bullshit. I've seen that same argument being used against homosexuals and homosexuality. It's bullshit there and it's bullshit here. There is nothing under the sun that is more natural than the animals in nature and they do not care in the least who is 'mating' with whom. Love is love. It should have no boundaries, restriction, or limitations. Look at your sister. Look. Is she not beautiful?" Adele's face was a mess of tears. Her eyeliner had run a bit at the corners, sending black trials onto the paleness of her cheeks. When she looked up at me those eyes, normally as blue as to make the sky weep its own tears in envy, were a cold dead gray. She slowly sat up, whipping at her face which smeared the mascara. "I think she is the most beautiful woman in the world," I said. "Yes. Exactly." MaryDee's voice was tight "Now give me one reason ... a real reason, not some religious mumbo jumbo written two thousand years ago by men who fucked little boys ... or their sheep, while telling the world women were evil. Not some fake scientific crap about related people and birth defects either. That has been proven to be phoney as hell. We breed everything under the sun with their own genetic bloodlines to get what we want. Horses, cows, dogs, pigs, chickens you fucking name it. We are having a family grudge fuck on the farm as often as we can manage to get them to breed, but oh no, let it get close to our own bedroom and people want to shy away like frightened virgins from a Viking raping!" MaryDee put her arm around Adele and pulled her back till she was leaned against her. She laid her head in my sister's hair. "This is a beautiful woman. She needs to be loved. Needs to be held, needs to be made to feel that she is desirable." Resting her chin on Adele's head and my sister quietly continued to weep, MaryDee gave me a frank look. "If for one second she was interested in me I would have her on her back, making her toes curl. I'm even half-tempted to do it just to see the look on your face." I had to sit back and blink at that. I saw a ghost of a smile appear on Adele's face. It vanished quickly. She sniffed back the tears, turning her head to hide her face from me in MaryDee's breasts. I looked up to find a pair of lovely brown eyes looking back at me solemnly. "She loves you so much that if she could not be with you, totally, completely be with you ... that she would rather die. How in the hell can you sit there there? Who in the fuck is worthy of that kind of love? " MaryDee's brows furled in a dark look. "How can you keep just sitting there?" The movement to go to my sister was instinctive after that. I had her in my arms holding her to me before I knew that I had really moved. She clung to me, crying, sobbing her heart out into my chest. My name a whisper spoken over and over, a mantra of love, being given to a man the world would tell her she could not love. Not in that way. I felt MaryDee move till she was on her knees behind Adele. Her hands, those too big hands, resting on my sisters shoulders helping to hold her next to me. "Love him, hun. This world is too short for anyone to not do a single thing that they don't wish to do. If it hurts no one and makes you happy, fuck what anyone else thinks!" MaryDee looked up at me, those eyes I had taken for flirty, were emotional wells of the deepest darkest water. "The world will revile you. The 'normal' people will despise you. You will have to keep your blood connection hidden. To hide the very fact of your love for one another from those hypocritical eyes. Those fools that have let the world and society tell them who and what they can love. None of their opinions matter, Cody. The only thing that matters is you ... and her." Looking down into my sister's face, as it turned up to mine, I found that it was as simple as that. I loved her. I had been there to protect her for more than half our lives. Why not for the rest? Who better than me? Some random guy she might meet in a bar? Some coworker that would see her more as a company trophy than as a woman. Will any of them see just how fragile she is? How easily she can be broken. Her lips were soft against mine. Her mouth tasted of champagne. Her hair smelled of sandalwood, and the burning sage they had waved around earlier when they Blessed the apartment. When her hands came up and buried themselves into my hair, pulling me closer into the kiss, I stopped thinking about shouldn't dos, and "forbidden love" rules. Rules of society and culture turn away when there was a growing element of lust in the air. Her hands drew me in, pulling me towards her, demanding more of my mouth than a simple kiss. "I should probably go." The words were a soft, sad whisper. "MaryDee?" my sisters reached out a hand to her friend, who took it and smiled. "Hush, beautiful. Don't worry your head on me." The tall woman levered herself to her feet, and hunted till she found her shoes. "I'm going to go back to the club and round me up some seriously warm bit of beefcake to snack on. I'll be back tomorrow. We'll get this place in shape toot sweet." She gave my sister a wink then looked at me. "Love her." ** ** ** ** ** ** ** I closed the door after MaryDee, my hands trembling. Walking back to the bedroom, I stopped to catch my breath, my heart about to break rib bones it was pounding so hard. Looking through the open doorway I saw my sister, my so very dear to me sister, curled up on the bare mattress on the floor. Facing away from me, her shoulders shaking a bit as she cried. Now I'm sure there is out there a man that could walk away from this without a single backwards glance, but that is not me. Bare footed, risking all manner of pain given the number of pins and tacks they had used to make the fabric drape just right, I walked those last few yards and lay down next to her. I snuggled in behind her and placed my hand on her hip. "Turn over here and look at me." She gave her head a shake. "I love you Adele. I love you and will do anything you need me to do. I will be anything you need me to be. It's just you and me in this world now ... together. Whatever happens, happens to us together. Now, turn over here please." She sniffled and slowly turned to face me. She had wiped her face with a wet rag, removing her smeared mascara, but her beautiful eyes were tearing and red. I smiled and brushed those damp, lightly-freckled, cheeks with a thumb. "You grew up to be a beautiful woman, you know that. I could do a lot worse." She shook her head. "You don't have to do this. I know I'm not what you desire. I'm your sister, in your mind, not a lover. I don't want a pity fuck, I don't want a one-night-stand, either. I want to be with you. To live like I'm your wife, in name if not in legal ways. I want to be the one you look forwards to coming home to, the happy face at the door with dinner ready and a cold beer. I can be that. I want to be that. But I can't...." "Why not?" I brushed a stray lock of hair back from her face. "You could do and be all of that, and we never sleep together." "But that's just it! I want that too. I want the warmth of you in my bed ... in me. I've dated. I've had boys, and a couple men in bed with me. And they have one and all never been anything to me but a momentary fling. But you, I always come back to fantasizing about you. I have for years." "So what changed on the fourth?" For some reason I had to know the answer to that one simple thing, before I was willing to move past this point. What had made her decide to take her own life? Adele gave a little half shrug. Dismissing my question, as always. "Sis, ... Please?" "I was thinking of Dad." She leaned her face into my chest and I pulled her closer. "The family barbeques. All those years of eating burnt hotdogs, too-much-mustard potato salad, and the damn flies trying to get into everything. And how much he loved taking us to watch the fireworks. Year after year ... and then he was gone. And it felt as if the whole world stopped turning. It was the Fourth and wanted to go see the fireworks, I wanted some lousy potato salad, and to eat a charbroiled hot dog. I wanted our dad. I wanted everything to be normal again. For me not to feel disgusted with myself, because I was filled with thought s of wanting to have sex with you. MaryDee tried to tell me it was normal for people to have thoughts like that, even to give them a try. I just couldn't believe her. I still can't." "It's normal." I smiled. "Yeah, most people don't try them out, but the fantasy probably gets a lot more people off than are willing admit to it." She looked up at my face. "Have you ... well, ever thought about me, while getting off?" Looking down at this beautiful woman in my arms, there was no way I could lie and say I hadn't. I gave her an embarrassed smile and shrugged. "Yeah. I have ... more than once." A slow smile tugged her lips, those plump, kissable lips with the hint of black lipstick still in place. Then that smile became a grin. "What have you thought about me doing? You, perv." "Oh ... well, it's a fantasy after all so you're this belly dancer slave girl, in nothing but veils and bells. I make you dance for me stripping off thin veils till your naked then I order you to the bed and do wicked things to you." I moved my hand a tickled her. "Liar. Tell me. Tell me!" she began to poke my ribs. I fought her off for a moment. Wrestling with her, as we did years ago, I used leverage to push her backwards and when I had her flat on her back and was looking down at her face, I smiled. "It's a guy's fantasy, sis. They're not all that intricate." "So I was naked. Yes?" she asked. "Yeah." "And I was doing naughty things to you while I was naked. Right?" she teased. "Yes," I answered, rolling my eyes. "So. What. Was. I. Doing?" Adele slipped a hand free and poked me in the ribs for each word. I caught my sister's hand but shifted my grip when I saw her wince. My fingers had closed over the half-healed scar. Holding her hands gently, my fingers laced into hers, I looked down into her eyes. Those cool-blue pools of deep water. "My normal fantasies are to have a woman face down under me. Belly down. My legs straddling her ass, my weight holding her in place as I fuck her. I often imagine I'm holding both her breasts and I'm saying things into her ear as I'm fucking her. Hard" The breathing of the woman under me got a bit faster and she opened her legs wrapping my waist a bit. "Things? Such as?" "I tend to be a bit nasty, calling the woman names." My sister grinned at that. "I never mean them, but I get really turned on to say them." Adel licked her lips. "What do you say? What names?" "Whore, slut, cunt ... I don't know, it's whatever comes to mind as I'm fucking her." I licked my own lips, knowing as I did it I was about to kiss my sister. That I had somehow in my life reached this point. And, I also knew, that I was about to go a lot further than that point. I was hardening even as I let myself think about what was about to happen. Her breathing was making her breasts rise and fall, lifting them to touch my chest. Her leg moved across my butt and then she used it to pull me down on top of her. "So you want me to be your whore? Your slut?" My sister squirmed under me. "You want to call me your cunt as you fuck me, pinning me to the bed, making me take your cock?" Adel grinned. "Tell me, brother, when you're fucking me like that, belly-down ass-up, do you ever make me take it in my ass?" She gave her hips a thrust smacking her pussy up against my crotch. I think she could tell I was hard. "Ever make me your anal-whore?" I nodded. I felt my cock straining to break through denim to get at the pussy so close to it. "Yeah. Yeah, I do." "That's good." She lifted her lips till they were about to touch mine. "Since, in my fantasies, I think about you often doing that to me. Make me your little anal-slut." I felt her lips, just brushing mine, pull back in a smile. "Cody ... I think the time for fantasies is past though. I don't want to imagine your cock in me anymore, I want to feel it. Please? Let me be your little cunt." My lips bridged those last few microns then her mouth was hard against mine, demanding I kiss her harder. I turned Adele's hands loose and slipped a hand under her pulling her body tight up to me even as I let my weight settle on her, pinning her in truth. She grabbed at my shirts pulling it off me in a rush, then when to work pulling her own off, but I caught it when she had it half off and pushed her arms down, blindfolding her with her own shirt. Moving down, sliding myself lower, I began to nibble at her breasts, biting her nipples through the thin red silk bra she wore. Placing feathery kisses across the pale freckled tops that showed above that red lacy edge. One soft kiss on that warm, slightly sweaty skin, then a second longer one. She squirmed then a bit, laughing. "What?" I asked, licking lightly the valley between her breasts. "You haven't shaved in days, your bristle tickled." I chuckled. "Imagine what it will feel like on your inner thighs." Turning her arms loose, I let her remove her shirt while I pulled a red bra cup down out my way to bare a silky-looking, rose-red nipple. "Or here." When I leaned in and sucked that tight point into my mouth, she gathered my hair in her fingers and held me in place. "It's like a soft brush there. Tickling yes," she moaned " but making me want to writhe under you more than laugh." "Are you wet?" "I'm soaked." "Good," I said. Then I was kissing my way across her belly, past the shiny bellybutton piercing, till my mouth found the tops of her jean shorts. Her hands were there undoing the snaps when my kissing lips arrived, moving the denim out the way. I chased that zipper down placing kisses on her red panties. I could already smell the passion musk of her pussy when I caught those shorts and pealed them down off her hips, dragging the panties down onto her thighs a bit, baring a mound of bristle covered skin. My lips didn't stop their southward plunge, but crossed that field of short hair. "Sorry, I'm not shaved," she said. I let my teeth graze those stubbly hairs. "I don't mind in the least. I like hair down here." Her words were starting to come at a breathy pant. "I'll let it grow out then." She reached down and her fingers went past my mouth to her pussy and she opened herself a little. I grinned and licked her fingers tastings the first hints of what was awaiting me. I let my fingernails rake her skin a bit as I slipped those red panties under her ass cheeks and got them far enough out my way that her puffy outer lips were in sight ... I was looking at my sister's pussy, from just a few inches away. I could taste her still on my lips, I could breathe and fill my nostrils with her heady scent. And I was about to devour her. Her, my sister. My Adele. My bratty, teasing, homework-destroying, pain in my ass since the day she was born sister. The surrealistic madness of this moment hit me then. My mind reeled at the very fact that I was about to do this to her, but nothing, not even the realization that I was doing something this crazy, would stop me from tasting her. Not now, not when I had gone this far. "Oh, my god!" she moaned as my tongue dove past those hair-flecked outer lips to scoop her wetness from her like I was licking the inside of a pudding cup clean. And such delicious pudding, sweet-tart as crisp apples and more savory than the finest steak. I licked it from her skin then went deeper for more, knowing as I did it that I would never be able to get enough of this taste. I could have spent the whole night here simply going down on her, making her cum over and over, lapping up the wetness and be a very happy man. But I was not given that option. She had other ideas. I had to move as I felt her moving under me. Then I was looking not as wet pussy but two very rounded, plump ass cheeks. Adele was looking back over her shoulder at me. A slow grin appeared. "Are enough of a perv to do what I enjoy?" Her eyes dropped to her ass displayed before me "Get me wet, brother, and you can fuck my ass to your heart's content. I'll be your anal slut for you. But you have to make me squirm first." If my sister didn't think I would do this in a heartbeat, then she clearly didn't know me as well as she thought she did. I was placing kisses on her ass before she even lifted that sweet ass to meet them. Holding her hips in place I followed that valley from the top down and she lifted herself to meet my lips, hunching her ass towards my face. Then my thumbs were spreading her open and my mouth was kissing her heated center and she began to moan. When my tongue circled that wrinkled rose Adele cried out my name and tried to push her ass back on to it. I smiled and, with a bit of what was to come, pushed my tongue into that tight warm hole, making it open. Seconds became minutes, and minutes wove themselves into that timeless period where you simple listen to the sounds your lover is making and try to make those sounds double. To judge from the sounds she was making my teasing had become torture, but I knew it would be a torture she would gladly endure for hours and I was certainly happy to oblige her with hours of it ... any other night than tonight. I had tipped past the point where I had to be in her and had to be in her now! Summer of Sibling Madness Getting up, I shed my pants as fast as I could get them off. She was looking back over her shoulder at me, watching me get naked, knowing what was about to be done to her and silently begging me to be quicker. Her hand reached back and Adele opened her ass a little. Then I was naked and back on top of her, pushing her into the mattress. I swung my leg over her hips and sat up just enough to see what I was doing. When I had my cock lined up I leaned forward and reached under my sister to scoop up her breasts. She pushed her hips up to meet me, her ass all but nibbling on the end of my cock. My breath was hot on her neck as I started to push and she began to whimper. "Slow please. It hurts at first," she begged me. "Oh! Oh, damn." My mouth on her shoulder, I licked her neck simply to taste her skin again as I let myself slowly sink into my sister's ass. That I was really doing this, to her, was blowing my mind. Then I was in, balls deep in, and the fact that this was my sister became irrelevant to me. I simply wanted to fuck the woman under me till we both were screaming. A thrust, met with a sharp intake of breath and a gasp. Then a second with the same result. After that I stopped counting. "Am I you slut now?" she asked me. "You're my anal slut," I told her, my voice a growl. "Feel good, my little whore?" "Oh, yes. More. More. You can't do it too hard now. I'm your slut; give your slut a good pounding. I need that. Please, Cody. Please." "No need to beg for cock, whore. You're going to get all you can take and then some." She chuckled, between grunts. "I can take a lot." Oh, to have finally met a woman that shares my kinks. To have her under me, begging me to fuck her harder, to do it faster. Loving that I was calling her the vilest crap I could dredge from the back of my mind. She was a fuckin' cum whore, my fuck toy, and a dozen other things. I was growling those words by her ear, as I pumped her tight backdoor like a possessed mad man and she meeting me thrust for thrust. Popping her ass back to accept the stretching, making my belly smack all the harder agasint her ass. Taking me deeper. I had never felt a woman do that, the few that had even let me in their asses had always been timid begging me to be as gentle as I could, not begging me to destroy them. I watched her fingers clawing at the bare mattress top and that was all it took to trip me over the last hurdle. With a deep guttural scream, I felt my balls tighten and I pinched her nipples between my fingers, hard, as I felt cum jetting out of me, pouring into the slick-cavity of her opened asshole. She was whimpering under me, panting for breath. "Adele ... Turn back over please," I said when I could catch my breath. She gave a slow nod, clearly exhausted. When she rolled under me, I saw her face was flush red. I gave her a smile, and then sprung my surprise. I was still hungry. She gave one little begging protest then was screaming as I slid down her and sucked her clit into my mouth. I pushed her legs opened to their fullest and licked everything from the tight little bundle of nerves to the bottom of her pussy. She was awash with her body's moisture when I licked that wide open hole; her hands were on my head holding it in place when I sucked on her clit. "Oh, Cody!" I held tight to her thighs as she arched her body under my mouth, riding my face to her orgasm. She was then pushing at my forehead, trying to get me to stop licking but I teased her to a second orgasm before I let my head come to rest on her warm thigh, panting for my own share of the sex drenched air in the room. "I love you," she said softly, after several minutes. "And I love you." ** ** ** ** ** ** ** ** So there you have it, my summer of insanity when I changed from the directionless guy that I had been to the growing freak I am now. My hair is now jet black, spiked, I'm wearing nail polish and more and more often I have on leather clothes. When I'm not naked, a state I find myself in more and more often. There are gage hoops I my ears and other piercings in much more private places. I no longer answer to Cody, except in the bedroom. To most people at the club I'm the C-Man, a nickname that MaryDee stuck me with and that has spread like a kerosene fire to every one of these Goth fuckers, drag queens, trannies, and fetish club shadow lurkers I now call friends. I told my uncle to go take care for his crazy sister, that I was going to be too busy taking care of mine to deal with my mom and--after I got hired to run the sound and lighting equipment at MaryDee's club-- I also told him what body orifice he could place the job I had once begged him for. The old red tribal tattoos, which I had once done my best to keep hidden, now had several new ink friends that cannot be hidden. And more and more often I find myself looking back on these last few months wondering what my life must have been like before I went loopy. In fact I was pondering that very though, my sanity, while pushing around half-burnt hot dogs on a small grill on the balcony of our apartment, while my little wife and her crazy tranny friend were planning the next phase in the "Cody Project" as they have taken to calling it. All I know about it is MaryDee showed up for this Labor Day cookout with a big, black leather bag in hand, and a wicked look in her eyes. I don't know what this night, hell this life, will hold for me. But I do know this much. Nothing, not my apartment looking like a mixture of a Tim Burton movie with a New Orleans brothel, to the crazy sexual plans of a Goth and a tranny would ever make me stop doing what I'm doing. NO, NOT COOKING HOT DOGS! Loving my sister, Adele ... and keeping her alive, to be loved. Now, wish me luck. I just heard the word strap on. It might be a long night. (No hot dogs were really burnt in the making of this story. Thank you for taking time to read, comment and vote, hope you enjoyed it. MST)