“Jess!” I shouted. But it was barely a whisper.

It was enough, though. The girl flung herself on top of me.

Part of my mind went Who’s Jess? but the rest knew she was my sister.

The next thing I remember is waking up again, Jess half on top of me, arms wrapped around me. I lay there, staying quiet. Just taking things in. I was in a bed. There were medical smells and sounds. I was in a hospital.

I had died.

I knew my name was Jason Howser Splitt, and I was a 15-year-old boy. And the girl holding onto me was Jessica Katherine Splitt, my younger sister by one year and three days. Yet a small part of me knew this was wrong. I never had a sister – only two brothers. And I was a lot older than 15.

I slept again.

The next time I awoke it was busy around the hospital. I thought maybe I had been moved to a different room. There was a curtain, presumably with another bed on the other side, a door, and a display up on the wall. Jess was nowhere to be seen. I tried to call for the nurse. I was thirsty and I needed water. My voice was still barely a whisper.

I lay there for a few minutes before I remembered there was suppose to be a button somewhere to summon the nurse. I tried to turn my head to look for it, but I couldn’t. Then I tried to move my arm to feel around for it, but I couldn’t move more than a few inches. Guess I was just going to shrivel up from dehydration.

But that small part of me was reassuring, insisting that I probably had an IV and a catheter, as well as various sensors. The nurse’s station would know I was awake and someone would probably be here in a few minutes. That same part also noticed my vision was a little blurry, and I had a ringing in my ears.

Sure enough, a nice old lady came in shortly thereafter and I opened my mouth, thinking the gesture would be correctly interpreted. It was and she was soon holding a cup for me and putting the straw in my mouth. I drank just a few swallows, but it felt like a few cups.

Another nurse came in, this one was a younger guy (younger than Dad, anyway) and he did all the medical stuff with the data from the sensors. He did the light-in-the-eye thing (that small part of me thinking it was properly called a pupilary, but wasn’t sure), and writing on his tablet.

The lady nurse had tilted my bed up and set up a table so I could drink when I wanted to, and then they both left. I was hoping I would be seeing my family next, but a small part of my mind knew there would be doctors first.

Sure enough, about half an hour later a doctor came in and started asking questions to which I had no answers because I couldn’t speak. Eventually he caught on to this and started asking yes-no questions that could be answered with a twitch of my head. Another doctor came in to discuss something with the first one and then they both left. A small part of me was expecting a MRI.

But then my family came, Jess running through the door and bounding up onto the bed to wrap her arms around me and snuggle her head on my shoulder. Suddenly I screamed, “I came back for you, Jess!” as loud as I could. But of course it was only a whisper that hurt my throat.

It didn’t matter, because Jess heard it and started crying and clinging to me. Mom and Dad stood right next to the bed looking down at us, seemingly very reassured by that effort. I wanted to hug Jess, but my arms would barely move. Mom. Dad. Steven Splitt and Angela Splitt. Part of me wanted to know what Mom’s name was before she married Dad, but I couldn’t remember.

We only got to be together for a few minutes before the nurses came to take me to get the MRI, bed and all. They got me ready to go into the big donut and told me to lie very still (as if I had a choice about movement), then the buzzing and humming started as the machine began its work. A small part of me was going Aaaaaahh! I’m being eaten by a donut! Aaaaaaaahhh! I thought it was so funny and I was worried about laughing and messing up the scan, but really I couldn’t move if I wanted to.

After that I got taken back to the other room and my family was there waiting. It was kind of awkward because I couldn’t speak. So we just sat there together until one of the doctors came and everyone hugged me and they left.

The doctor told me it would be a long time before I could do anything or even speak (part of me thought well duh…), and I would need to retrain my brain how to do everything like when I was a baby (part of me thought I wish they wouldn’t say that, it’s not that bad).

Many, many boring hours ensued. I watched a little TV, but couldn’t really enjoy it because I still couldn’t see it clearly. The physical therapists came in and moved my body every which way and checked how far I could move it myself.

That night I had a dream. It was about my death.

What happened was Jess pushed me. I slipped and slid down the hill. I fell into the water and hit my head hard on the bottom. I was knocked out and I drowned. Somehow I knew that I kept dying (crashing, part of me knew) and in the hospital they finally let me die. And that’s when I heard Jess crying to me to come back.

That day there wasn’t any visits from anyone but doctors, nurses, and the physical therapists. The following day my family was back. They got to stay for a few hours that time, and I appreciated it even though I couldn’t talk. Jess spent most of the time half-smothering me as before. I realized she felt really guilty about having killed me, even though it was just an accident.

I also remembered what she said after I had died: “Please come back to me! I promise I’ll always do whatever you say!” I don’t know if that kick-started my brain or if it was just coincidence, but I remembered it.

That went on for a few more days and then finally there was a little improvement and I could speak a little more clearly and move a little more, actually being able to lift my arms above my head and move my legs. I overheard one of the PT’s telling Mom that I was making remarkable progress for someone that had been dead for over half an hour. Of course it didn’t feel that way to me.

That was when I noticed I had been doing more exercises than the PT’s had told me to, and I was soon able to clench my fists and speak a little above a whisper. So it was quite a treat for my family, especially for Jess, when I could hug her back and pull her to me to give her a kiss.

Part of me had to tell her something, “Jess, I don’t expect you to keep your promise about doing everything I say,” as I said this her eyes popped open and she jerked back, “But there are gonna be times when something is really important and I’m gonna remind you about that promise so you don’t argue with me, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, in a frightened little voice as though her whole world depended on it, “I promise.”

I kissed her lips.

After a few more boring weeks in the hospital I was allowed to go home. I could see better and the ringing in my ears stopped completely. I could walk and talk and the doctors told my parents at my rate of progress I should be normal by the time school started. Which, knowing how cautious they are, meant a couple more weeks.

I kept up all my exercises, doing more and better than the PT’s expected, and I also started stretching and lifting weights. Not heavy weights, I was only 15 after all, but ten  and 20 pound weights with a moderate number of reps was enough to help my strength significantly.

Of course Jess was fawning all over me and tripping over herself waiting on my every need. Mom noticed this and hinted to her to back off. Before I knew it I told Mom, “She needs to do it Mom, just let her until she’s ready to quit.” That made both of them look at me, as though neither of them realized that until I said it. I hadn’t realized it until I said it, but a part of me knew it all along.

Things got pretty much back to normal after that. Except I noticed things I didn’t know. Most of the time I kept it to myself, but every once in a while something would happen and it seemed unusual to everyone, even to me. But part of me just shrugged it off, and I’d say something like I saw it on the PBS channel or whatever.

Dad had an old car out in the garage he was kind of halfheartedly working on. I never really thought anything about it until I was out in the garage and part of me wanted to look at it and knew it was a Bugeye Sprite, but I didn’t know how I knew that – it was just a little too weird for me to dismiss as something I read about on the Net or whatever.

And then I realized I wanted to help him work on it. Which I had never had any interest at all before. So every couple weeks or so Dad and I would spend a day taking the thing apart. And I knew stuff about the car that I didn’t know. I would still read the book and look at the diagrams with Dad, but it was just to confirm that I knew stuff.

Summer turned into fall, and Jess and I both went to the newly rebuilt Wilson High School, I was in 10th grade and Jess was in 9th. We hung out when we could, during lunch and between class. It was nice for us in that respect. The previous year we had gone to different schools.

I made fun of everyone that gave me a hard time for dying. Usually it was something along the lines of me being a zombie or a vampire… I would do something like look at a stupid cheerleader type and tell her “Don’t worry, you’re perfectly safe.” Everyone would laugh except her because she didn’t get it.

Then one night something happened between me and Jess. She called me a perv. We were in bed snuggled up together. I had my arm draped on her and I was rubbing her thigh, no differently than I’d done in the past.

And she said, “Stop touching me you perv!” like that.

I was shocked and hurt. I disengaged from her and rolled away, my back toward her. She laughed.

I said nothing. I didn’t get it. Where did that come from? Eventually she snuggled up to me and said “Sorry,” insincerely. Not good enough. The damage was done. Eventually I slept.

I awoke some time later. Her arm was wrapped around me. I shoved it off of me and got up to go to the bathroom. I went back to bed and just lay there thinking about Jess. I knew she loved me. I loved her. We tease each other like any other brother and sister, but we don’t attack each other. And that is what she did to me. Attack me. Why? Until I got an answer, I didn’t want anything to do with her.

So it was very obvious and Mom noticed right from the start.

“What’s wrong with you two?”

Jess couldn’t say anything. Eventually I said, “We’ll work it out, Mom. Be patient.”

That last line got a laugh out of her as it is what parents are always saying to their children.

I didn’t try to be mean to Jess. I didn’t try to hurt her. I just didn’t really interact with her. She said hi, I said hi. She asked me a question, like about her homework or something, and I answered her.

She got more and more depressed. I was waiting for her to talk to me about it, but she couldn’t. A couple days later we were getting ready for bed and she put her arms around me.

“Jason, I’m really, really sorry. I mean it. Will you please forgive me?”

Mostly I wanted to, but that small part of me said, “No, Jessica. That’s just not good enough.”

She dropped her arms and started crying. I stood there waiting.

She asked, “What is good enough? What am I suppose to do?”

Finally, three days later, she figured out the right thing to ask.

“Tell me why, Jess. I need to know why.”

She hesitated. And hesitated some more. This was bigger than I thought. Not really, that part of me thought.

“It was Sandy. Sandy said I should do it.”

I waited.

“She said guys really get turned on by it.”

That surprised me. Mostly. Part of me expected it.

And Jess was blushing heavily.

I looked at her for a full minute.

And then I said, “Well, I was really hurt by it. And I didn’t like it at all.”

“I’m sorry,” she said again.

“This is one of those really important things I’m going to make you keep your promise about doing what I say…” I took her hands in mine.

“Okay.”

“Do. Not. EVER. Try something on me. ALWAYS ask me first. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“I mean it Jess, it’s really important to me.”

I hugged her to me then, and gave her a big wet smooch on the lips.

We finished getting ready for bed. I was pretty much done as now I wore only undershorts. Last year I stopped wearing PJs because I thought they were too ‘little boy’. I knew Dad only wore his undershorts, and I thought this was what men were suppose to wear. Jess was kind of going through the same thing, giving up her nightie as being ‘little girl’ in favor of a long t-shirt. Then we brushed our teeth as usual.

We got into bed and snuggled up together as though we never had a disagreement. I thought about what Jess had said, about turning guys on. It made me feel a little weird. I knew Jess loved me. When she was eight she loudly declared she was going to marry me. I guess Mom and Dad just kind of dismissed it as a little girl’s fantasy, but I knew she was serious.

Only I hadn’t expected to start dealing with it so soon. I just assumed it would be When we were Grown Up. Later. Much later. Like when we were finished with school at least.

Now I knew differently. Jess didn’t want to wait. She wanted, um, attention. Serious attention. Not just the snuggling we do in bed, or the playful touching that happens when we wash each other in the shower. Usually we talked about things, but I never knew she was thinking about things like this. Maybe it has to do with how girls are suppose to mature faster. Maybe she was acting as though I was 18.

I wondered if she had thought things through. I mean, there weren’t any laws against a brother and sister having sex, not after the Sexual Revolution of the last decade, but it was still something that must be kept hidden – if only to spare Mom and Dad the humiliation. So we couldn’t really act like a couple, no romantic dates or anything.

I also thought about the way Jess acted around me. The way she refused to stop using the shower with me, despite Mom’s many hints as she filled out. And her emphatic ‘No!’ when Dad offered to get her her own bed for her 12th birthday. That’s not the sort of thing you talk about with other kids, but it’s pretty obvious that it wasn’t typical.

Yes, my little sister was planning our lives together, transitioning us from siblings to couple. Only I wasn’t sure how it was going to go. I’d never even dated a girl, so the only clues I had were in the movies and on TV, where the couple just starts kissing and then the scene fades to black because they start having sex. I remember being only 10 when I figured out that real life wasn’t like that.

I thought about how close we were, how we were often if not mostly in physical contact around the house. How we were open with affection, hugging and kissing even more than Mom and Dad sometimes. Hearing about other kids and their brothers and sisters, it seemed like none of them were as close as we were. And they had more fights more often, over stupid things.

Last year I learned the details about ‘sibling rivalry’, and it seemed like it really didn’t apply to us very much. There wasn’t anything one wasn’t allowed to do if the other could. Maybe this was because we were so close in age. But whatever the reason, we were far more partners than we were rivals. I guess if you looked at it objectively, we were actually a very compatible couple.

Then I thought about sex.

I guess growing up with Jess I was just desensitized to it. We see each other nude almost every day. We touch each other all over, whether to wash or tickle or just to cuddle or snuggle. But I didn’t really think of anything sexual. Sure, we’d played around with each other’s ‘parts’ ever since we were little, but that’s probably what desensitized me to it.

My hand was on Jess’s breasts right at that moment, but it was just warmth and closeness. I guess if I was going to show my love for her I was going to have to get turned on by it. Or at least satisfy her growing need.

The next morning Jess was back to normal, seemingly happier than usual in comparison to the past few days. Mom noticed this immediately also, and asked, “Want to talk about it?” to which we chorused, “No.” Even school was better, although neither of us were into it for the social aspect. Sometimes in quiet moments I got distracted by thoughts of Jess becoming my girlfriend in an intimate sense, though.

That evening Dad suggested we play a game. Mom and Jess both said “Yahtzee!” because they were better at it than me and Dad. We played and I was surprised to win. Not just win… dominate. I had a magic touch somehow. It was as if part of me was very skilled at Yahtzee and knew it was more than just a game of chance.

An hour later everyone had something to do except me, and I was left sitting alone at the table. I went into the living room thinking I’d watch some TV, but I didn’t even turn it on. I just sat there.

I thought about that part of me. It was there in my mind, lurking in the shadows, like a mouse you can’t see but you know is there. I decided to try the direct approach: “Hello?”

Nothing.

“Can you hear me?”

I guess not. So either it was hiding or it wasn’t interactive. I thought about that for a few minutes. How it was. It knew hard answers, like in math class and science. But not so much in history. Hm. Maybe that was something.

“I live in the United States.”

Nothing.

“There are 54 states.”

??? the last four are…

“Cuba, Puerto Rico, the Virgin Islands, and Guam.”

Hm. A reaction.

Maybe reactive instead of interactive. Try again.

“The President is Bobby Kennedy.”

??? Not Bush… and before…

“Before Bobby was Jack Kennedy.”

I waited a bit.

“It’s 1974.”

Part of me was amazed 30 years

I had an urge to look into modern history and scan newspaper headlines after that.

And when I did I noticed things. Things I just took for granted before.

An ad for a Hewlett-Packard Typer. looks like a small laptop

A headline about the Apollo 13 mission staying on the moon for a record two weeks, the story went on to say Apollo 14 would try for a month, paving the way for a moon base by 1980. better luck

A review of the new Ford Pinto. ??? electric

A review of modern history:

Bay of Pigs succeeded. Cuba joined the Union in 1965. JFK made his We’re All Americans speech, encouraging (some critics said shaming or bullying) minorities to act in accordance with American values. In conjunction with Martin Luther King’s I Have a Dream speech, it helped minorities to realize they had to become Americanized, which they did. This effectively killed racism in all but the most stalwart bigots.

The other states joined the Union, ending with Guam in 1968. RFK was elected. Then the South (i.e., the U.S.) won the war in Vietnam – ending with a truce and a DMZ much like Korea. That victory was soon followed by the success of Apollo 9, landing a single astronaut, Buzz Aldrin, on the moon on May 25th 1970 – nine years to the day of JFK’s challenge to the nation.

The technological spinoff from the space program was astounding. Take the aforementioned Typer. Hewlett-Packard, known for scientific/ engineering calculators, expanded the unit to incorporate a 2/3 size keyboard with a clamshell lid which also served as the display. The unit was made to be an advanced calculator as well as a word processor. It could be connected to a printer for output. At $499 it was intended for working engineers, but soon found popularity with college students.

Its big brother was the IBM Mini-Mini. A 50-pound box that sat on top of the user’s desk along with a monochrome display. At a whopping $3,999 this unit featured an unprecedented 8 MHz processor. And what’s more, it could be connected to the Net: The nationwide network of computers maintained by the National Science Foundation and NASA that was used to transfer text files at an blazing 12,000 baud.

Holy crap! We done good. That explains the huge MRI and shit.

Bobby Kennedy was scheduled to give a speech tomorrow in which he was expected to announce the unilateral discontinuation of the manufacture of nuclear warheads. The reasoning was that since we had enough of them to render the planet lifeless twice over, no more were needed. The pundits also expected a stern warning to any potential enemies that we would not hesitate to use them in a first strike to defend ourselves and our allies.

I was shaken, literally, out of my reverie by Jess, plopping herself onto the couch. Pressing her thigh firmly against mine, she took my hand in both of hers.

“What are you thinking about?” she asked.

“Us,” part of me lied. Her face lit up.

“What about us?”

“What we’re going to… how we’re going to, you know…” I could feel myself blushing. That only seemed to embolden Jess. She wrapped herself around me and tried to suck my teeth out of my face. Not knowing what to do, I tried to do what she did. But she quickly stopped when she heard Dad in the kitchen.

We just sat together in silence, then.

I thought about things, sexual things, with Jess. I realized there wasn’t much of a real sexual attraction on my part. I supposed that was normal for siblings. Over the past couple years Jess had filled out in the feminine sense, and I was oblivious to it because she was my sister.

She had a nice pair of 34C tits, I knew this because I would fasten or unfasten her bra for her several times a week. She had a nice firm ass and lean legs, and soft downy pube hair in between her legs around her slit. Which I only assumed was normal because I had never seen any other girl’s slits. Only those of women in magazines of my Dad’s and other kid’s dads they didn’t know we knew about.

We snuggled up together in bed every night. Sometimes I would get a boner for whatever reason, but I had never thought of doing anything to Jess with it. I thought maybe when I was asleep she had done things with it herself.

We had watched each other jack off a few times a couple years ago, but we had never done anything like that to each other. Maybe that would be a good place to start.

An hour later we were still sitting there, just enjoying each other’s company. Part of me said, “Let’s go take a shower.”

Jess smiled and was half pulling me upstairs almost before I finished speaking. We got undressed in our room and went across the hall to our bathroom. I started the water and Jess got towels as usual. When the water was warm we got in and Jess started washing me. I don’t remember how it started that she would wash me first. Maybe I insisted on it because I was older, but I doubt it.

I tried to pay attention to what she was actually doing. Did she wash my chest more than usual? Did she spend time playing with my balls? I couldn’t tell. But I did enjoy her attention, even if I wasn’t ‘turned on’ by it.

When it was my turn to wash her, part of me wanted things to go a little differently. I started washing her back as I had usually done, but instead of going down and washing her butt and legs, I snaked my arms around her and started washing her tits. Soapy washcloth in one hand, I rubbed it across her tits, then above, then below. This was a departure from the norm, because what I usually did was to wash her front as she faced me.

But what I really did differently was with my empty hand. Instead of just washing along, I cupped and gently squeezed her tits. I brushed my fingertips up and down over her nipples, and gently pinched them. Part of me thought I should be sucking on them when we were in bed.

I noted that this felt good. And I also realized that if I was thinking it was good, Jess was probably thinking it was great. But I wasn’t done yet. My washcloth hand had washed further down, over her belly and down in between her legs. When her crotch was good and lathered up, my hands switched places.

I started cupping and rubbing her mons with my empty hand as my washcloth hand went back up to wash her tits some more. I tried to remember exactly what she had done when she masturbated, but I was unsure about the details. So instead I just rubbed up and down on her cunt lips, while my other hand set the washcloth aside and went back to cupping and squeezing her tits.

I noticed I was starting to get a boner then, not really thinking about what was going on but just enjoying it. I was taller than Jess, so my dick was bent down in her butt crack.

But with all my rubbing and squeezing I had lost track of time, and the water started to get cold. So I quickly finished washing her and turned the shower off. I reached out to get a towel and then wrapped it around her. When I turned her around to face me I saw she was positively glowing.

With her looking like that I thought it would be much easier for me to be aroused by her as a woman. I pulled her to me and kissed her tenderly on her mouth. She wrapped her arms around my neck as her towel slipped off, pressing her naked body fully against mine.When she let me go I picked up her towel and thoroughly dried her off, and dried myself off as she dried her hair.

I thought about sleeping naked, but decided against that. She might want to show the initiative there. So instead it was my usual shorts. We snuggled up together as usual, and I kissed her good night. “Night Jess, I love you.”

“I love you too, dear,” she replied.

Dear? Where did that come from?

Although after our play in the shower I did feel a little closer to her in the romantic sense.

The next day I could feel my sister’s sexuality radiating from her, even just getting ready for school. I could also feel she was trying desperately to hide it. Part of me thought, Houston, we have a problem but the rest of me didn’t understand.

Passionflower, part of me thought.

I totally didn’t get it.

Well then aspirin… part of me continued.

We had a moment alone before we left for school, part of me needed to talk to Jess very badly… “Jess? Are you feeling all right?”

She smiled, “Yes!” then after a pause, “No. I’m glowing, aren’t I?”

“Um. Yeah,” part of me quietly answered.

“What am I going to do?” she whispered fiercely.

“Take aspirin. Double what you’re suppose to, but no more than that,” part of me told her.

“Aspirin? Why?” she asked.

I felt myself taking her hands, “Jessica, I need you to do this.”

She understood it was important, “Okay,” she said, then left to do it.

Excess aspirin will reduce her body temperature, and make her feel a little queasy

By the time we got to school, regardless of how she felt inside, outwardly she seemed closer to normal.

We, especially Jess, tried very hard to act like normal siblings that day, not just two that shared a sexual experience the previous evening. Of course we didn’t avoid each other or act like we were angry, but we felt that if we acted a little distant it would average out to normal.

It seemed to have worked, at least no one said anything. When we got home I asked Jess, “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, and a little nauseous,” was her answer.

I felt a strong need to massage her, it just seemed to be the right thing to do. I took her hand and led her to the sofa. I had her lie face down with her arms at her sides. I straddled her, holding most of my weight off her butt, and proceeded to knead her shoulders. After ten minutes or so I felt her begin to relax. I kept it up for another five minutes before finishing with a back rub. Then I got off of her and patted her butt. She looked so sleepy I didn’t even bother asking and just draped the afghan over her.

After her nap she seemed fine.

“Hey Jess,” I said as a greeting.

“Hi,” she smiled. Then asked, “What am I going to do?”

I thought about it for a minute. After all, no matter what happened, unless she was either angry at me or sad, or something, she was going to obviously look like a teenage girl who has a crush on someone. And since she didn’t feel like that for anyone she knew, people were going to wonder who…

“Maybe you could start using a little Passionflower,” part of me said.

“Why?” she asked.

“Because it helps to regulate um, anxiety, and that way you won’t look so…”

“Horny?” she giggled.

“Well, ah, aroused…” I smiled at my sister as I took her hand.

We sat in silence for a time, just holding hands.

I broke it and asked my sister, “Jess? Why now?” She knew the what.

She snuggled up to me then, resting her head on my shoulder, “Because you almost died,” she answered in a husky voice.

I put my arm around her shoulder and held her close, “I did die.”

“Don’t remind me,” she sniffed. “I mean I almost lost you. You always knew I was serious about us. Being together, I mean. I realized I couldn’t risk not having you, even a little. If something happened again…” she broke off, tears streaming down her face.

After a couple sniffs and some eye wiping she continued, “I killed you, Jason. Me. I did that. Do you have any idea how that makes me feel?”

“Um. Guilty?”

She sighed, “If there were ten degrees of guilty I’d be about a 12.”

I chuckled and kissed her head, “We both know it was an accident, Jessica. You never meant for it to happen like it did.”

“It doesn’t matter! Anything can happen, caused by anything. That’s why I… I…” her voice soft, just above a whisper, “…need you.”

I just held her then. We sat there quietly until it was time for dinner. If our parents detected anything was the matter then they were kind enough not to mention it. After dinner we watched TV, did our homework and went to bed.

The next day was Saturday. Jess could probably get away with looking like what she was, a teenage girl in love, without too much worry. Meaning most of the day it would only be me that saw her, and she could probably restrain herself when the parents couldn’t be avoided.

We went out for a while, just to hang out. What few people we saw knew us, so they wouldn’t think anything of us spending time together. Though to us it certainly felt like a first date, albeit casual and laid back. Not even holding hands. I guess we both felt a little sad we couldn’t act like a couple.

We stopped by the Hippie Store, as we called it, and the hippie lady there knew all about Passionflower and how to use it. I was afraid she was even wise as to why my sister needed it, but if she was she was also wise enough not to show it. So Jess got a small supply, intending to try what the lady said and use more if she thought it wasn’t enough.

When we got back, Mom was gone and Dad was busy with the Bugeye. Jess took notice of this and after a snack she led me to our room. She quietly closed the door behind us, and then attacked, wrapping her arms around me and trying to fuck my mouth with her tongue. Her hands were rubbing all over my body and I could feel the heat from them.

I tried to return her affection, although not as passionately. I felt guilty for that somehow, as though it wasn’t fair to my sister that the intensity of my love for her wasn’t as great as hers. But my touch pleased her. I tried to reach everywhere I could, her ass, her back, her legs, her cunt, her tits, her arms… I wanted to feel every square inch of her body.

She finally disengaged my mouth and I took the opportunity to attack her. I spun her around so her back was to me, and since I was getting hard I humped her ass crack through our jeans. Meanwhile my hands reached right up in her shirt, pulling up her bra and kneading her tits.

Jess responded with small moans and wiggled her ass against my cock. This really did make me feel passionate and I tugged her bra and shirt up off her head at once, then turned her around and pushed her back onto the bed. I held her wrists as I half laid on top of her and began to lick and suck her tits.

Sucking my sister’s tits was the most awesome feeling, and I was starting to make as much noise as she did. We kind of got carried away because we forgot about Dad being home until we heard a loud thud and some not as loud cussing. That put a stop to our play, as Jess put her clothes back on and I went to help Dad with the car.

It turned out not to be as bad as I had feared. Dad dropped the axle out of the car, literally. But the wood blocks we had put underneath were still there to catch it, so Dad only ended up with a little bump and a big scare. I helped him disassemble the suspension and then we decided to call it a day.

By then Mom had come home and was cooking dinner while Jess helped. The herbs the hippie lady sold Jess seemed to be doing their thing. At least Jess seemed normal to me, considering a few hours earlier I had been sucking on her tits. The rest of the evening was uneventful and by some unspoken agreement my sister and I kept our hands off each other until we snuggled up together in bed.

Apparently the Passionflower helped her emotional state enough that she could have some self control, instead of working herself into a fit of lust. I hoped it would work this way for her at school. But it didn’t last forever, though.

I awoke to find her holding on to my stiff dick. Yet she was asleep. Or at least appeared to be. I shook her gently, “Jess’”  whispered.

“Mmm’” was all I got.

Having her hand holding my penis really didn’t bother me, I guess it just seemed weird that she would do it in her sleep. Then I thought back and remembered it had happened a couple times over the years. I think I had just awakened to use the bathroom and took her hand off without thinking about it.

I noticed that I did need to use the bathroom, and gently took her hand off so I could. Only this time when I got back, I put it back on.

The next time I woke, Jess was snuggled up to me and I didn’t have a boner anymore. It was almost time to get up anyway, so I just laid there, softly stroking Jess as she slept.

The Passionflower worked just as well at school, Jess told me she felt pretty close to normal. She could focus in class and study without daydreaming too much. At home she didn’t try as hard though, but considering how she acted after what happened to me it was a lot closer to normal. I was prepared to point this out, but no one ever said anything.

Later in the week as we were taking a shower, she seemed especially affectionate. When I pointed this out she told me she didn’t bother with the herbs that day because she wanted to have a little more fun.

She started to wash me, beaming the whole time, as though she was going to pounce at any minute. Rather than washing my dick with the rest of my front, she saved it for last. She lathered it up and just kept washing. And stroking. And squeezing. As well as gently holding and caressing my balls. So naturally my rod was rather stiff after such attention. She made as if to kiss it, but I knew she wouldn’t with all the soap.

What she did next was forever burned in my mind. She stood, holding it, then without any warning stuck it in her vagina. Coyly smiling the whole time. I was so shocked by it that it took me a couple seconds to react.

“Jess! What are you doing?!” I almost shouted at her as I separated us, not quite shoving her away, but more holding her back as I retreated.

She giggled, “I thought it was obvious,” as she tried to take ahold of my cock again.

Of all the ways I had imagined losing my virginity, having my sister try to stuff my dick into herself in the shower was not among them. I shut off the water so I could talk.

“I’m sorry, Jess… I just thought… that…” I started.

“I wasn’t going to, you know, actually do it,” she looked contrite. I guess it really was different for girls. Different for everybody, part of me thought. She continued, “I just wanted to… play. I’m sorry, Jason.”

I just held her then. This was still too weird for me, even though I had known it was coming eventually. I felt a chill, noticing we hadn’t finished washing, and turned the water back on. We finished our shower, and didn’t speak until we went to bed.

I gathered my sister in my arms and spoke softly to her, “I’m sorry Jessica. It was just unexpected, and I really wasn’t ready for it. Remember what I said about not trying things on me and asking first? Same thing.”

She kissed me and held me close, “I’m sorry too, Jason. I guess I just got carried away. I wasn’t going to do any more than what I did, and I thought you’d be okay with it. I really want to, you know? I think it’s time.”

I smiled, thinking that was putting it mildly. I hadn’t told her of my feelings, about how rushed it felt to me. How I thought I had more time to prepare myself. I guess that was a mistake on my part. She probably assumed I just accepted her plans, even though I wasn’t really sure what they were.

I decided in the end to just go along. Because I loved her. Because she loved me. And needed me. “Mom’s suppose to be at the dentist tomorrow. We should have the house to ourselves.”

Jess smiled and kissed me, then snuggled in as we went to sleep.

The following morning she told me she wasn’t going to use the Passionflower, that she was going to tough it out, no matter what it took. She said she didn’t have any exams or anything major to worry about, so all she needed to do was make it through the day.

In school she seemed normal. Either she was working very hard at it, or the fact that she would soon have what she needed helped to lessen the turmoil for her. I was distracted when I didn’t have anything to occupy my mind. I kept thinking, God damn. This is it. I’m going to fuck my sister! Fortunately classes kept me busy enough that I didn’t seem to spaced out. At least I had hoped so.

On the way home it was obvious Jess was distracted. Fortunately no one said anything or asked her why. When we finally closed the door behind us, I just stood there looking at her. My devoted little sister, who was soon going to become my lover. She had that shy little smile, and a slight blush. I felt the heat between us. Neither one of us moved for a time, but then finally we slowly reached for each other’s hand and slowly made our way to our bedroom.

When we got there we closed the door, held each other and kissed tenderly. Then we separated and began to undress each other slowly. As I took my sister’s bra off and let her tits loose, I realized that I had become caught up in her lust. That now even though I had seen her tits since before she started growing them, they were a source of arousal to me. I took a moment to cup them in my hands, and felt my cock stiffen in anticipation.

When Jess took off my underwear and it sprang loose, I knew I wanted to make love to her, to feel my cock buried inside her. I wasn’t sure who she wanted to lead or what she wanted to happen, so I decided to just lay down on the bed, and point my cock straight up as an invitation. I looked at her and she gave me a hungry look of anticipation.

By unvoiced agreement, we totally dispensed with foreplay as unnecessary, and instead she slowly climbed on top of me, sitting astride me with my cock against her slit, as if needing to gather courage now that the moment had finally arrived. Then she positioned herself above my cock and lowered her cunt down on to it, engulfing it. It slowly slid into her, not really meeting resistance – just tightness, as I moved my hand to her thigh.

I looked up at my sister. I saw passion, lust, desire… but mostly I saw love. I couldn’t remember a time without her in my life. I was only a year (and three days) old when she was born. Maybe that perspective changes things, it’s almost as though we were twins.

She started moving up then, slowly, not all the way off of me, then back down, grinding me with her pelvis. Up again, then down. My hand started rubbing her thigh, as the other one moved up to her face, just to touch. But she captured my hand and held it there, as if wanting to keep a mere touch as a gift.

She increased her pace then, building up a steady rhythm, as I began to move in time with her. I thought then of the more base aspects of making love: We were fucking. I also thought it felt totally awesome. She let go of my hand. I traced it down her body, over her tits, and her belly, to her other thigh, where I grabbed gently with both hands as I increased my upward thrust into my sister’s cunt.

Faster and faster we fucked, the bed beginning to make more and more noise. I was enjoying every aspect of the experience immensely, from the sight of her face, her body, to the feel of my cock as it drove again and again into her.

Finally she started a steady moan, low and guttural, “Uuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnhh…” It built up louder and louder, until finally she just froze, impaled on my cock, twitching and jerking inside and out, holding her breath. Just the sight of her in such ecstasy made me come, sending jets of my semen up inside of my loving sister’s hole. “AAAAAaaaaahhhh!” was my response as I felt my dick throbbing.

Jess slowly laid herself down on top of me, spreading her thighs apart as far as they could so she could unfold her legs without my dick slipping out as she stretched her arms out in front of her, slowly drawing them back to gently enfold my head.

“I love you, Jason. I am so happy. I never thanked you for coming back to me.”

“You’re welcome,” part of me said.

Despite the tenderness and happiness of the moment, that worried me. Was that part of me, that shadowy phantom, the reason I was alive? Was it the reason I… un-died? I didn’t want to think about it then, but it was a distraction.

Our post-coital bliss was cut short when we heard Mom’s car pull into the driveway. We got dressed and Jess lit some incense to cover the smell of our incest. We went about the rest of the day feeling satisfied and happy, the edge of need having been blunted a little. Once again I dominated the evening’s Yahtzee game, reminding me of that part of me…

I felt a strong need to visit the scene of my drowning. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. School would take up much of my time and Jess would take up the rest.

In public she was my devoted sister, maybe still feeling guilty for having killed me. In what little private time we shared, she was my girlfriend. And I enjoyed the change. Feeling her ass or cupping her tits as a greeting instead of the more chaste pat on the back or one-armed hug.

And there was her need for affection. And sex.

To me it seemed we made love often. Maybe to her it wasn’t enough. But the school year wore on, and even though I dated a couple girls I belonged to my sister. During spring break, I had the opportunity to visit the scene of my accident.

I walked with Jess. She was depressed and about ready to cry. We came to the spot, and part of me felt it was all wrong. The big tree wasn’t suppose to be there. The little trees were suppose to be bigger. Even the rocks on the bank seemed wrong somehow.

But the biggest weird feeling was that Jessica was my cousin and not my sister. And her name was Angie. And though we wanted it, things were different and being together just wasn’t a possibility. So that part of me was happy Jess chose to claim me despite any reluctance on my part.

I walked down the rocky bank, noticing how easy it was for me to keep my footing, even that small detail seemed off – as though that part of me felt a difference without having been pushed. I got to the water’s edge. Still too cold this time of year, it was close enough. I felt a brief pain, then a sense of loss, then a sense of rightness. And I knew that part of me was gone and yet leaving something behind.

I sat there on the bank for a long time, while Jess stayed on the trail. I wondered about that part of me. Was that other ‘self’ dead now? Or was he fine. Was he Dad’s age like I always felt? Or was he another kid from somewhere/ somewhen else… The part left behind was an intense love for my sister.

I climbed back up the bank, and took Jessica into my arms.