Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Chapter 7 Caroline Raven got home to find her kids sitting quietly together
at the kitchen table doing their homework.  Sam looked much better, and she
felt a little surge of relief at seeing him so well.  She had been so
frightened for him -- frightened that he would never wake, that she would
lose him, as she'd lost his father.

   Joan was dressed to go out, in a pair of tight jeans and a shirt with
the top three buttons unfastened.  I really shouldn't let her dress so
provocatively, Caroline thought absently, but she does look nice.  And so
does Sam.  They're really handsome kids; and growing up so fast!  Oh, well.
It wasn't as if Joan were going out with a boy; just with some of her
girlfriends.  Joan did date a bit, but as far as Caroline knew she had no
special boyfriend.  Time enough to worry about that yet!  She just hoped
when Joan did find one that he would be trustworthy.  It wasn't an issue
she could raise with Joan; their relationship was a little too touchy for
that, though shared worry about Sam had brought them closer recently.

   Sam and Joan both got up to set the table, but Joan made him sit down
again even though he claimed to feel perfectly well.  Caroline made dinner,
and they ate together, talking about their days.

   "Did Mrs.  Severson look after you?" Caroline asked Sam.

   For some reason this question seemed to amuse him, but he answered "Yes.
She was very nice."

   After dinner both Sam and Joan cleared the table, at Sam's insistence.
With the dishwasher running, Joan hung out with Sam and Caroline at the
kitchen table until her friends arrived.  Afterwards, Caroline sat and read
a book to relax, while Sam continued to work on his homework.  When he
finally finished, the two of them played cards for a while.  It was fun. 
She really should spend more time with her kids.

   Joan came home earlier than usual, and surprisingly decided to join in
the game.  Really, it was remarkably pleasant.  Caroline couldn't remember
the last time they'd all done something together, except at meal times, yet
here they were, chatting and laughing over a silly game of cards.  At
length, Sam finally said that if he was going back to school in the morning
he should get some sleep.  Caroline was surprised to realize that it was
after eleven; time had just flown by.

   "Yes, we should all go to bed," she said, gathering the cards together
and putting a rubber band around them.  "I didn't realize how late it was.
Good night, sweetheart." She leaned over the table and kissed him good
night, his lips warm against hers.  She was oddly aware of her nipples
rubbing against the inside of her blouse.  It must be a little chilly in
here, she thought.  That was it.

   "Good night." Joan kissed Sam as well, which was unusual, but it was
good they were getting on so well.  Caroline made sure the doors were
locked and turned out all the lights downstairs, while the kids went up to
get ready for bed.  By the time she got to her bedroom both Joan and Sam
had their doors closed, with no light showing.  Caroline closed her own
door and brushed her teeth in her bathroom.  She looked at herself in the
mirror.  Not too bad for a woman with two kids practically grown up. 
Caroline had married Joan and Sam's father right out of high school, and
she was only thirty-nine now.  Her parents hadn't at all liked her marrying
a half-breed, or marrying so young; she'd barely had contact with them the
whole time she was married to James, and rarely saw or heard from them even
now.  After he had died, she'd gone back to school and finished her degree
while raising two small children, with no help from her parents at all.  It
should have taken its toll, but there was little sign of it in her unlined
face.

   Caroline did something she hadn't done in a while.  Before putting on
her nightgown, she looked at herself nude in the floor-length mirror of her
bedroom.  Really, she still looked good, even after two kids and almost
forty years.  She turned and looked at her breasts, which sagged only a
very little.  She touched them, and they still felt firm.  There was a
little softness around her belly and rear, and she made a mental note to
get to the gym more often.  But still, plenty there to attract a man, if
she'd ever had time for one, or met one who wanted a woman with teenaged
children.  A man like her husband.  Sam was really remarkably like him,
Caroline thought, hefting her breasts again absently.  Same dark looks;
same intensity.  She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of her hands on her
own body.  It had been a long time.

   Oh, well, she thought, putting on her nightgown and getting into bed. 
Maybe she'd meet another man like that someday.  Someday.

   The next morning Sam felt as strong as he ever had, or even stronger. 
His muscles moved easily.  He felt awake and alert, his senses especially
keen.  The faint roaring in his head was still there, but he barely noticed
it now.  It had become almost a part of him, oddly comforting.

   Caroline, looking fetching in her well-cut business suit, gave her
reluctant consent for him to walk to school along with Joan.  The school
was only a few blocks away; handy, since Caroline couldn't afford a second
car for the two of them.  Sam and Joan walked together in comfortable
silence, not arm in arm, but close enough for their hands to occasionally
brush.  Sam felt content, and Joan seemed to enjoy his company, but feel no
need to talk.

   At school they separated and went to their different classes.  Sam's
appearance attracted a fair bit of attention.  Everyone had heard about his
collapse in the museum, and he felt many curious eyes on him; looking for
evidence of brain damage, perhaps, he thought with amusement.  Those who
spoke to him, though, were friendly.  His teachers made a special point of
asking him how he was and congratulating him on his recovery, as did a
number of his fellow students, including some he had never been
particularly friendly with.

   The biggest surprise was when Katarina Miller stopped by his locker
between classes to ask how he was feeling.  Katarina was widely considered
to be the most beautiful girl in his class, with long, perfect blonde hair,
full lips, high cheekbones, and a slim but definitely womanly figure.  She
had never given any evidence of knowing that Sam existed before, though
they shared a couple of classes.

   "I'm fine," Sam said to her easily.  "Thanks for asking."

   "If I can do...you know, anything to help," Katarina said, tossing her
honey-blonde curls back and smiling, "just let me know."

   "Thanks," Sam said.  "I will.  See you in class." He watched Katarina
saunter off with a noticeable sway, as if she were inviting him to look
after her.

   "Boy," Cameron said in his ear, "I'm ready to collapse into a coma any
time you say, if that's the kind of interest you get."

   Sam laughed and turned back to his friends.  They kept their lockers
together, as they did most things.  "It's just being sick.  Girls find it
interesting.  Brings out their maternal instincts, or something."

   "Yeah," said Gina skeptically.  "She looked real maternal." Imitating
Katarina's breathy voice, Gina said "If I can do...anything...to help, just
let me know." She added a flutter of eyelashes and an exaggerated sway of
the hips.  "Anything at all..." Laughing, she ducked away as Sam threw a
mock-punch at her.

   "Speaking of help," Sam changed the subject, "could you guys come over
to help me study for the algebra test Thursday night?  Mrs.  Gray said
she'd give me the make-up test on Friday after school."

   "Sure, I'll be there," Gina said promptly, but Cameron shook his head.

   "No can do.  Choir practice." Gina hooted a little at that, and Cameron
pretended to glare at her.  "You don't need my help anyway...you're both
better at algebra than me."

   "No problem," Sam said.  "Thanks, Gina."

   Sam had plenty to think about for the rest of the day.  First Jenny, in
the hospital; then Laura -- Mrs.  Severson.  Today, Katarina Miller was
practically coming on to him, and some of the other girls, too...even some
of his teachers.  And his sister and mother seemed to have been affected,
somewhat, as well.

   What was more, he himself had been affected.  He remembered how
comfortable he had felt, talking to Katarina; how easily he had accepted
the actions of Jenny and Laura.  His old shyness around women was gone. 
Instead, he felt confident, strong, secure in his attractiveness and sexual
prowess.  The actions of the women around him seemed, more and more, to be
just what was appropriate.  After all, what was the big deal about sex?  It
was a way of sharing pleasure, a great deal of pleasure, with people you
liked or loved.  There was nothing wrong about it.  And he felt confident
that he would share it with a great many women; as many as he liked.

   After school he walked home alone.  Joan had dance class after school on
Tuesdays and Thursdays.  Large drops of rain were starting to fall just as
he made it home.  Feeling a little chilly, he lit the gas fire in the
living room and took out his homework.  Might as well get it out of the
way.

   He had just finished it when Joan got home.  It was raining steadily by
then, and she was soaked to the skin.  She dropped off her backpack and
came into the living room to stand by the fire.  She was still in her dance
clothes, which offered little protection from the rain.

   "I guess we should have listened to the weather report this morning,"
she commented.  Her auburn hair was plastered to her head, and her leotard
clung wetly to her skin, taut nipples visible through the fabric.

   "I guess so," Sam said.  "Sorry you got wet."

   "No biggie," Joan said, turning to warm her other side.  "The fire feels
nice."

   "Yeah," Sam agreed.  "Can I get you anything?"

   "No, no, I'm fine," Joan said.  She shook her head and started to leave.
"I'll just go change clothes and dry my hair."

   Sam heard the blow-drier start as he was tucking his completed homework
away in his book bag.  It sounded somewhat louder than usual.  Wandering up
to his room, he realized why.  Joan had left her door open, and was
standing nude in front of her mirror, blow-drying her hair.  She looked up
as he walked by and blushed a little, but made no effort to close the door
or cover herself.  Not wanting to stare, Sam continued to his room.  She
really did have a nice body.  He'd rarely seen it before today.

   He was lounging on his bed reading when the blow-drier stopped.  A few
minutes later Joan appeared in this doorway.  She had changed into a
t-shirt and shorts, her usual clothes for hanging around the house.

   "So, what's up?" Sam asked, setting his book aside.

   "Not much," Joan said, leaning against the door frame.  "How are you
feeling?"

   "I feel fine," Sam said.  "I feel great.  Are you going out tonight?"

   "No...not tonight," Joan said.

   "Too bad!" Sam joked, and when Joan looked a little hurt he quickly
added, "I mean, no fashion show today."

   "Oh!" Joan said.  After a little thought she added, "Well...I mean, we
could.  If you wanted to.  I could show you some of my outfits."

   "Sure," Sam said, intrigued.  "Why not?"

   "OK." Joan said brightly.  "Wait here.  I'll just be a minute." She ran
back to her room and started going through her closet.

   When she reappeared in his doorway she was wearing a short skirt and
middle-baring top.  Her long dancer's legs were shown to excellent effect
as she slowly turned in front of him.

   "Jeez, sis, you look really hot!" Sam said, then blushed.  "Sorry!"

   "Don't apologize," Joan said, looking pleased.  "Do you really think
so?"

   "Yeah," Sam said.  "You've really got some body."

   "Huh," Joan said, and struck an attitude.  "What about my face?  Do you
think I'm pretty?"

   "Sure," Sam said.  "You know you are."

   "I don't know," Joan said doubtfully, dropping the pose.  "I always
think my face is kind of round.  I wish I looked more like Mom."

   "You and Mom are both gorgeous," Sam said.  "You don't have to look
alike."

   "Huh," said Joan again.  Though Sam couldn't tell this, his words were
arousing her strongly.  Joan really liked that her brother thought she was
sexy.  As sexy as she thought him.

   "Let me get something else," she said, and vanished back to her room. 
While Sam watched, commenting appreciatively, she paraded a series of
outfits in front of him.  A tight dress with a slit up one leg; another
miniskirt, with a man's shirt left partially unbuttoned and the sleeves
rolled up; tight pants and an equally tight top, that outlined her firm
young breasts clearly; a dress with spaghetti-straps, that showed the top
of her cleavage above the low neckline.

   "And now," Joan called from around the corner, "the piece de
resistance..."

   Sam was stunned as she walked into his room.  She was wearing a bikini
from last summer.  Their mother had not been happy about it at the time,
and had only given in after a long campaign of whining and begging on
Joan's part.  It had been pretty revealing at the time, but Joan had grown
some since then.  The cups of the top barely contained her swelling
breasts; the bottom was plastered to her like a second skin.  Her nipples
were firmly erect, poking into the fabric.

   "Wow!" was all Sam could think of to say, but it was the right thing. 
Joan smiled.

   "So, you like it?" she asked, twirling in front of his admiring gaze.

   "It's incredible," he said.  "Sis, you've got a body to die for."

   "You think so?" Adopting a sultry air, she walked towards him.  "Would
you die for it, little brother?"

   Sam looked up at her from where he sat on the bed.  He knew what was
happening now, and he accepted it.  "I guess I would."

   "You're sweet," Joan said in a low voice, suddenly serious.  Sam got to
his feet.  They were standing almost nose to nose, but Joan didn't retreat.

   "So are you," Sam said, and kissed her.

   The kiss was tentative at first, little more than they had already done,
but it deepened.  Sam put his hands on Joan's waist and pulled her against
him, feeling her aroused tits touching his chest.  They were almost the
same height.  Joan's arms went around his neck, and her lips parted. 
Almost shyly, their tongues touched, then her tongue slipped into his
mouth.

   "Oh, God," Joan said when they paused for breath.  "I didn't mean...but
I wanted it so much..."

   "Me, too," said Sam.  He pulled her into another kiss.  Running his
hands up her back, he untied the bikini top and pulled it off.  She grasped
the bottom of his t-shirt; he raised his arms and she pulled it off over
his head.  Their hands began exploring each other's bodies.  Sam kneaded
the muscles of her arms and back.  Joan's fingers grazed lightly over his
chest, exciting his nipples.  He slid his hands over her smooth stomach, up
to her breasts, more than a handful each, feeling the erect tips press into
his palms.  Joan gave a little whimpering sound of pleasure.  Sam lowered
his mouth to her tits and began teasing them with his lips and tongue,
remembering vividly his treatment of Mrs.  Severson yesterday.

   "Oh," Joan breathed, "oh, that feels so, so good."

   "I can make you feel better," Sam said, straightening again and kissing
her, tracing her lips with his tongue.

   "I...I want you to," Joan said.  "Please, Sam, do it..."

   Sam lowered her onto his bed.  She raised her hips to help him slide the
bikini bottoms off of her.  Her cunt was less hairy than Laura's had been,
but he recognized the same signs of arousal.  He quickly stripped off his
own shorts and underwear.  Her eyes focused on his erect cock, and she
licked her lips.

   "I didn't know you were so big," Joan said, sounding half-excited,
half-nervous.

   "Don't have much basis for comparison," Sam said.  "They say size
doesn't matter."

   Joan laughed a little.  "I guess we'll find out."

   "Spread your legs," Sam suggested, and Joan immediately complied.  He
knelt between them and gently stroked her pussy with his fingers, drawing a
startled gasp of pleasure from her.

   "That feels...so much better than when I do it," Joan said weakly.

   "So...are you a virgin?" Sam asked.

   "Umm.  No, I'm not," Joan said.  "I did it with Jimmy Sullivan last
year. Only the once, though."

   "Jimmy Sullivan, huh?" Sam said.  He would never have guessed; she
hadn't seemed to care about Jimmy more than any of the other boys she'd
dated.  Maybe she hadn't.  "How was it?"

   "Well," Joan said, "it hurt some.  And, well, that was basically it."

   "Huh," Sam said.  He leaned forward over her, supporting himself easily
on his arms, and put the tip of his cock against her pussy, drawing a
little moan of anticipation from her.  "Well, let's see if we can't do a
bit better than that."

   He pushed into her a little ways, then withdrew; pushed in again, a
little further, then withdrew; rubbed the tip of his cock over her slit a
bit, before pushing in again.  Each motion provoked a gasp or a moan of
pleasure from Joan.  He pushed in further and started a slow rhythm,
pausing from time to time to pull out and rub over her again.  The second
time he did that Joan shuddered violently under him, and he knew she had
orgasmed, a small one.  He slid back into her and began pumping steadily,
quickly bringing her back to a state of high arousal.  She pulled his face
down to hers and kissed him passionately; she kissed over his face and
neck, nibbling at his earlobes.  Sam twisted a bit and managed to get one
of her nipples in his mouth; sucking and licking in time with the motions
of his cock inside her, he knew he was driving her out of her mind with
pleasure.  A second orgasm was approaching quickly; Sam let his own arrive
at the same time.  As Joan came with a wild cry he erupted inside her,
spraying into her welcoming cunt; pulling out, he came a second time,
spurting thick ropes of cum onto her lower belly.  He shifted off of her
and settled by her side on the bed, pulling her into his arms.

   "That was...incredible," Joan said, stars shining in her eyes.  "That
was the most incredible thing I've ever experienced."

   "I'm glad you liked it," Sam said, feeling a little smug.

   "Liked it!  I loved it!" Joan said.  "I want to do it every hour on the
hour!"

   "That could get inconvenient during school," Sam said, and they both
laughed.  Joan kissed him and settled contentedly into his arms.  After a
bit she slid a hand down and scooped up a bit of his semen on one finger.

   "Did you...come inside me, as well?" she asked.

   "Yes, I did," Sam said.

   "Good!" she said, surprising him.  "I wanted you to." Extending her
tongue delicately, she licked her finger and arched her eyebrows.  "That's
not bad!" she said.  Scooping up a bit more, she stuck the finger in her
mouth.  "Not bad at all!" she said.

   Sam wondered if he could have gotten her pregnant; but the same
certainty that had guided his actions told him somehow that he had not.  In
fact, he felt the odd conviction that he would not impregnate anyone unless
he specifically wanted to.  It was all part of the strangeness that had
begun since he touched the little statue in the museum, but he trusted it.
Something had changed him, and this was part of the change.

   After a while they both got up and cleaned themselves off.  When they
were done, Sam positioned Joan back on his bed and ate her out, bringing
her to another screaming orgasm.  Then he showed her how to give him a
blowjob.  She sucked him off with apparent pleasure, and enjoyed the taste
of his cum as much as she had the first time.

   "Let's go down to the living room," Sam suggested, getting up again.

   "Why?" Joan asked, following him willingly enough.

   "The fire is still on," Sam said, "and I want to make love to you by
firelight."

   Joan giggled, but didn't decline.  "You are a sucker for romance.  But I
like it."