Ghost Sister

by Michael K. Smith



I don�t know of a better natural combination than Neverwinter Nights and Mozart. I was ensconced at the computer table in my room with the former on the screen and the latter surging through my earphones, and I was at peace with the world. Mom and Dad were attending some estate auction a couple of counties away, trying to figure out how they could cram a few more pieces of antique furniture into our house, and Julie was off at a pool party somewhere. I didn�t expect any of them to be back until supper time. I had intended to go out and waste the day with a couple of friends but had changed my mind. It�s nice, once in a while, to have the whole of a big house to just wallow around in all by yourself.

Anyway, I was poking around — or my avatar was — in a neglected corner of the city and I had the definite feeling that I was about to get involved in a fight, so I lounged back in my office chair and got myself comfortable.

That chair is practically the only thing in my room, other than my computer and my clothes, that is younger than my grandparents. My bed has a carved headboard as tall as I am that reminds me of the front of a Gothic cathedral. And because this big old house, which my folks have been happily renovating and redecorating as long as I can remember, predates built-in closets, Julie and I each have a huge wardrobe with double doors and stacks of internal shelves and drawers, in addition to the rod to hang things on. Kind of neat, actually, but a beast to have to dust under.

I�m a tidy person, but only at intervals — when I get sufficiently tired of the mess my room has gotten itself into — and so the doors of my wardrobe were standing mostly open at the moment. My avatar was peering cautiously around the corner of a building and I was waiting to see what was going to happen to it, when I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye. It was in the reflection from the mirror on the inside of the door of my wardrobe, which happened to be showing me a slice of the hall outside the partly-open door of my room.

I froze for a moment and my breath actually caught in my throat — and I ought to explain why that should be the case with an eighteen-year-old guy in good physical condition and nothing in particular to be afraid of.

This has always been the "haunted house" in our end of town. And the turrets and weathervanes sort of make it look the part, I admit, and it makes small kids nervous on Halloween. But when I was little, my father — in one of his less successful parenting moments — had told me about a previous owner, the president of a bank, who had lost everything in the Crash of 1929 and had hanged himself above the main staircase, by tying a rope to the chandelier and jumping off the upstairs railing. The Bankrupt Banker still hung around the house (so to speak), and if I didn�t pipe down and go to sleep, he was likely to come and pay me a visit.

Well, I had a pretty good imagination when I was little (I still do) and I had no trouble at all visualizing a spook in a pinstripe suit dragging a noose behind him. For a couple of years, every creak and pop the house made — and in a house 150 years old, such sounds are a constant feature — resolved itself into that unwanted visitor. Of course, at my age, I was long past such things. But still, every now and then. . . .

After I blinked and started breathing again — and thought to myself, "bankers don�t wear white" — I paused the game and the music and took off my earphones. As ridiculous as it was, I knew I was going to have to go and check out that momentary phantom. No, there were no such things as ghosts, and yes, I was awaiting the arrival of a mage or a wizard in the Forgotten Realms, which might simply have stirred something up in my brain. But I had to go and look anyway.

I stuck my head out the door and checked up and down the hall. Nothing. Silently, I padded barefoot to the top of the stairs and peered over the rail (glancing up only once at the chandelier). Still nothing. As I walked quietly down toward the other end of the hall, I passed the bathroom and my head abruptly entered a lingering cloud of citrus-flavored moisture. Ah-ha. With the earphones on, I hadn�t heard the shower.

I continued another few feet to Julie�s room, the door to which was nearly closed, but through the gap I saw my little sister�s image reflected in the mirror of her dressing table. She was standing half bent over in the middle of her throw rug, cocooned in the thick, white, hotel-type robe she had bought on last year�s trip to Disney World, carefully rewinding the bath towel turban in which she had wrapped her wet auburn hair.

I couldn�t help but smile as I watched. She had wanted to be sure the robe would last her a few years, so she had picked out one a couple sizes too large, with Tinkerbelle over the pocket. The hem came down to her ankles, the cuffs, when they came un-turned, covered her hands, and when she turned up the collar, it hid her ears. She was incredibly cute in that robe — though, of course, I couldn�t tell her so.

Actually, if the truth be told, I had begun paying more attention to my kid sister a year or more ago, when she suddenly began to blossom. She was fourteen now and becoming less of the tomboy I had been used to and more of a girly-girl every day. I had been feeling a little strange — even guilty — about my interest in her but I couldn�t help it. She was just adorable. And I couldn�t say that, either.

But I thought maybe she knew my thoughts anyway. Sometimes she would catch me gazing at her and I would quickly look away, feeling my face heat up as I did so. Then I would glance back and find her favoring me with a warm, rather knowing smile. Yeah, I thought, she knew what I was almost thinking. She knew she had me hooked.

So I stood there in the hall, watching Julie�s reflection and thinking I ought to just go back to Neverwinter Nights, when she raised her head, patted her turban, and then undid the sash that held her robe closed. I saw from the back that it was swinging open as she turned and stepped toward her bed. I thought about this for a moment and damned myself for what I knew I was about to do.

The head of her bed, which was even more ornate than mine, stood against the wall that separated her room from the hall. And there was a low table with a lamp on it between the bed and the door, which meant that when I stepped just inside her doorway, I could see the lower three-quarters of her but she couldn�t see me.

My little sister had starfished on top of her duvet and had flung open her robe, and I stood there invisibly and stared in appreciation. She had a light tan with, interestingly, no bikini lines. A tanning bed, presumably. Her breasts weren�t very large yet and probably never would be, but they made nice little mounds, with bright pink nipples as prominent exclamation points. Her legs were rather slender and I already knew she had a great little ass that exactly suited the tight jeans she favored. Her waist had narrowed and her tummy was flat, with no sign of the puppy fat she had carried a couple years before. She was holding a magazine and waving it slowly above herself, trying to create a breeze.

And I noted something else I would have had no previous way of knowing: She had shaved all of her pussy, except for a perfect isosceles triangle about an inch and a half high, centered above her exposed clit. I was wearing only an old pair of soccer shorts and there was no impediment to my cock reacting to the sight. Okay. Time for my next stupid move.

Taking a deep breath, I stepped silently into Julie�s room, into her field of view. Except that, as it happened, she had her eyes closed. I took another step and just stood there, gazing down at that lovely body, freshly cleaned and powdered, and now being fanned. I set my hands on my hips, possibly to keep them from doing something even more stupid.

My movement must have registered somehow because her eyes snapped open and she jerked in startlement. She dropped the magazine and fumbled at her robe and quickly got it wrapped back around herself. Then she just lay there, staring up at me with her mouth open.

I had to clear my throat before I could speak. "Hey, I�m sorry, kid, I didn�t know you were home." I gestured vaguely, knowing how pathetic my excuse sounded. "I thought I saw something, and . . . so. . . ." Well, what more was there to say, really?

My little sister half-smiled and let out the breath she had been holding. At least she wasn�t screaming at me. "Fuck, Kev, you scared the pee out of me! I thought I was alone!" She relaxed and poked an escaping strand of hair back up under the towel. "I started having cramps a little bit and decided to pack it in. Sherry�s mom gave me a lift home from the party." She absently massaged her belly a little on top of the white terrycloth, which only reminded me of what was hidden just beneath. I took a chance and perched on the side of her bed, no more than an inch from her thigh. She didn�t flinch or budge.

"Are you feeling okay? Do you want me to get you something?"

She smiled again and reached out to touch my arm. "You�re always so sweet, Kevin, but no — I�m just going to lie here a little while, maybe take a nap."

I looked at her pretty face, and the way she was smiling at me, and the narrow gap in the front of her robe which reached down as far as her diaphragm. God, so close. Why had I come in here, anyway?

"I know why, Kev," she said softly.

Christ, I must have said that out loud.

"You saw I was . . . naked. And you wanted to look at me." I started to get up and leave but she took hold of my wrist. "Don�t go. I want you to stay. And I don�t mind if you want to look. Really."

We just kept looking at each other for a minute or so. Then, very slowly, I reach out and lifted back the near side of Julie�s robe and laid it open. Then I did the same with the other side. She lay there as bare as she had been three minutes before, except her eyes were fixed on mine.

"What do you think, Kevin?" she said finally, softly. "Am I sexy?"

From her slightly doubtful expression, I didn�t think she was fishing for compliments. "Julie, you�re gorgeous. And very, very sexy, believe me." She squeezed my hand and looked pleased, and maybe a bit relieved.

Of course, I knew exactly what I wanted to do next. The question was, was my sister going to allow it? Or was this all? Experimentally, and with a smile toward her, I reached out and let my hand glide across her midriff and curl around her waist. I figured if I didn�t touch anything strategic, she would have a chance to get used to this . . . whatever it was. Instead, she shifted slightly, pressing herself against my hand. I decided to interpret this as encouragement.

My hand moved up and gently covered her far breast, my fingers brushing over her erect nipple. Julie sucked in a quick breath and closed her eyes for a moment. Her lips parted and when she opened her eyes again there seemed to be little wisps of smoke curling out from under her lashes. I put my other hand over her remaining breast and lightly pinched her nipples between my fingers. She pushed her head back and arched her back slightly. And, after a moment, I could feel her pulse increase under my palm. I had the definite sense she wasn�t acting or playing up to me.

In fact, I knew somehow that this was the very first time any guy had touched my little sister like this. And it was the first time she had been naked in front of a boy. I don�t know why I was so sure but I was. So this was in the way of being Julie�s sexual debut.

Now, I�m not especially a ladies� man, but I hadn�t been a virgin for awhile, either. I had seen several girls either naked or very close to it. And I had fondled my share of young, inviting tits. But Julie was really something else. So young, so cute, slender, curvy, and so sweet besides. And, I have to admit, there was the sister-factor. The Forbidden and all that.

And, apparently, she was willing, though how far I didn�t yet know — and was a bit reluctant to find out, actually. I was thinking tactically, I suppose. I wanted to go exactly as far as Julie wanted me to go and not a millimeter farther. This was all spontaneous, not planned out in cold blood, so we were kind of making it up as we went along. But I didn�t want to leave her with the slightest suspicion that I had forced myself on her in any way. At the same time, of course, the primeval back-brain part of me wanted to just throw up its hands and dive right in.

At some level, even though Julie was obviously becoming aroused, as much by the situation as by my touch, she seemed to know that I was holding back. And she seemed to decide that meant she could trust her big brother. (I wasn�t sure she was correct.)

"Kevin, do you want to touch me? All over?" She twisted and writhed a little, a very sensual act that I thought was still probably not deliberate. She blinked and smiled up at me. "You have my permission, if you want to." She bit her lip and waited.

I thought about it for, . . . oh, . . . three-tenths of a second. Then I got up and climbed carefully over that inviting body and stretched out beside her. She turned her head to watch my face as I stroked the length of her torso, from her slender neck to that curly little pubic triangle. Her abdominal muscles fluttered as my hand passed over them and she stifled a giggle. Her skin was smooth and soft and warm under my gliding fingers. This whole thing was making me a bit lightheaded.

On the next slow pass down her body, I let my fingers curl down over the top of her crotch and slide between her thighs. I could feel the warm moisture of her cunt radiating outward. Julie caught her breath and swallowed, and then parted her legs a bit farther. Again, it seemed like an automatic reaction to what I was doing, not a deliberate come-on. She was merely allowing herself to be seduced.

I stroked the opening between her lips with my finger, letting the first joint gradually slip inside her. Her head was pressing back against her pillow again, eyes closed, mouth open. When I withdrew the finger, carefully dragging it back across the hard little bud of her clit, she moaned a little. And my cock was becoming so stiff inside my shorts, it was actually beginning to be painful.

I almost said "Do you like that?" Pretty stupid and I stopped myself just in time. Damn right she liked it. Which led back to the question of how far to go with this. If she was losing control here, then it was up to me, right?

Could I fuck my own sister? An image of what that would be like flashed through my mind, leaving little wisps of ash behind it. God, when she came down from her cloud, she would hate me for the rest of our lives. But that wasn�t the only option, right?

"Julie, do you ever masturbate?" The tips of her ears instantly turned pink, . . . which was a strange reaction, considering what we had been doing the past few minutes.

"Yeah, sometimes," she whispered. "Don�t you?"

I had to grin at that. "Christ, when I was your age, I was doing it several times a day. Dad used to bitch about the water bills, I stayed in the shower so long. I kept an extra box of tissues under my bed. I still jerk off several times a week, even now." I cleared my throat. "What I was getting at, though — do you come? Every time?"

She hesitated. "Do you? I don�t think it�s the same with girls. I can do it for awhile and just, you know, get relaxed, and then stop. I come once in awhile, though."

"I don�t think a guy really has any choice." I was slowly stroking her pussy again, keeping my fingers outside for the moment. "Once I start, I pretty much have to finish. I think I�d go into cardiac arrest if I didn�t." That got me a slightly superior smile. "But the next question is, has a guy ever made you come?"

Well, I was sure I knew the question to that, but I wanted to hear it from my little sister�s own sweet lips.

She licked those lips for a moment. "I�ve never done this before, Kevin, not with anyone. When you, . . . when you looked at me like that, I just. . . . I wanted to feel you touching me." She slid her hand down and it lightly covered mine. "Just like you�re doing." She swallowed visibly. "Do you want to make me come? �Cause I think I want you to."

I moved a little closer, slipping my arm under her head, and she snuggled up with a smile. "Could I kiss you, Julie?"

She looked up into my eyes with a warmth that made my toes curl. "Oh, yes — please."

Now, I�ve kissed quite a few girls in the past four or five years. It�s something I enjoy. And I think I�m reasonably good at it, objectively speaking. Anyway, I thought Julie deserved my best effort and I gave it to her, brushing my lips softly against hers before pressing down. As I did that, I also resumed stroking her clit, taking my time about it.

Julie moaned quietly into my mouth, reaching up to tug at my ear and pressing her crotch against my hand. We nibbled at each other for a couple minutes, letting ourselves sink deeply into the mood, then I moved my mouth back a quarter-inch and dragged my tongue across her lips. She parted them with a gasp and put out her own tongue to duel with mine. She kept closing her eyes with the pleasure of it all, then opening them again to stare into my eyes.

By now, my finger was sliding deep inside her, all the way to the end of the passage, and then slipping out again, and Julie twitched every time I did it. Her thighs were parted and moving restlessly and the soles of her feet were wearing grooves in her duvet. Her free hand was plucking and pinching the nearest nipple, which was now rigid and bright red.

I was trying to judge where she was on the "cum curve," trying to get it exactly right. You have to pay attention to these things with a girl, and I knew she was getting close. Her whole body was twitching and vibrating, she was moaning and gulping, and her grip on my ear was becoming painful.

After another minute or two, she started making little "uh, uh, uh" sounds and I speeded up my finger in her cunt. And then there was a squeak and she went rigid and then jerked several times. And suddenly my fingers were much wetter.

Julie kind of sank into the mattress a couple of inches and let out a long breath. "Oh. My. God. Oh, Kevin." She swallowed and gave me a warm, smoky smile. "God, I�ve never come like that. Not ever."

She turned on her side and snuggled up to me, her robe flopping closed as she did so. I put my arm around her and stroked the material but all I could really think about just then was the state of my swollen cock. It was absolutely rigid with lust and if I didn�t do something about it pretty quickly, it was going to get tired of waiting and make a mess of Julie�s bed all on its own.

I sort of eased my hand down into my shorts and my sister opened her eyes and peered down between our bodies. "Oh, Kev, I�m so sorry. Do you — do you want to come, too?"

"Babe, it�s on a hair trigger at the moment. �Want� doesn�t enter into it."

"Show me."

I turned over on my back and got my shorts pushed down. My dick sprang up to full vertical, ready to go and looking wildly around for a target.

"Wow," she said, and grinned at me. "Big, isn�t it?" I was taking a preparatory grip on it when she reached down, took hold of my thumb with two fingers, and lifted my hand away.

"My turn."

Naturally, it didn�t take long. Julie�s small, warm hand had made only half a dozen tentative trips up and down the overheated column when it erupted, throwing a sticky white geyser several inches into the air and cascading over her hand. The abruptness of my orgasm startled her but she hung on through the subsequent three or four follow-up spasms as my semen oozed down over her fingers. She looked delighted.

"Wow again! There�s sure a lot of it!"

I was catching my breath. "More than usual, probably," I replied. "Under the circumstances. All your fault, too." I smiled back. "I told you you were sexy."

She got herself up to a cross-legged position — using my penis for leverage — and pulled a couple of tissues out of the pocket of her robe as she began extricating her hand, trying not to let any of it drip on the bed. I grabbed my discarded shorts and quickly mopped myself up, and tossed them on the floor. I wasn�t going to worry about being naked right now.

Then I became aware that Julie was eyeing me with interest, her gaze traveling up and down my body. She unconsciously licked her lips.

"Kevin, . . ." She glanced down at herself, then at me again. Then she sat up, clambered out of her big robe, and tossed it toward the foot of the bed. She stretched out on her side facing me, and equally naked.

"So, here we are," she said brightly. I waggled both eyebrows and she giggled.

"Seriously, Kev — I never thought I�d be doing this with my big brother. But I�m glad you came in. And I�m glad you stayed. The thing is

. ." She reached out a finger tip and traced spirals across my chest, then looked into my eyes. "The thing is, I�d kinda like to do more than this. But I don�t know. Do you think we should?"

I shrugged. "Should we? No, we probably shouldn�t. Brother and sister, and all that. But will we?" I smiled and bounced my eyebrows again. "That�s whole other question, isn�t it?"

She sighed. "Obviously, we shouldn�t even have done what we did, if we were obeying all the rules. There are a lot of stupid rules when it comes to sex, aren�t there?" She smiled and reached down to run her fingers along the length of my relaxed penis. "Like, who cares, really, if a brother and sister want to do it?"

"Well," I replied, "most of the laws against incest are based on the Bible, I suppose. God doesn�t like it — god knows why, because I sure don�t. And there�s bad science on top of that, the assumption that a brother and sister would automatically make monsters, which is statistically silly if you�ve had even one semester of biology. And I guess part of it, too, is that an older brother could put a lot of pressure on a younger sister. Make her do things she didn�t want to do. And coercion is never good, right?"

Julie was giving me a rather strange look. "You sound like a professor," she said. "Anyway, you didn�t pressure me at all. And if you had, I can take care of myself. But still, . . ." She trailed off.

I was getting impatient. "Julie, look — if you want me to fuck you, just say so. I�m not going to try to talk you out of it, I promise."

She stared at me for maybe five seconds, then burst out in such gales of laughter she nearly rolled backwards off the bed. When she finally was able to catch her breath, and had wiped her eyes, she gave me a wide, warm smile. "Cutting straight to the chase, huh? But Kev, we have to use a condom. Do you have any?"

Okay, my sister hadn�t actually said "yes, fuck me," in so many words, but I figured I could take that as a given, now.

"Well, no, I�m afraid not." Julie looked a bit crestfallen. "But I think I know where to dig one up on short notice." I rolled to the side of the bed and took her hand. "C�mon, babe."

We went back up the hall to the stairway, still completely naked, and headed downstairs. It would be three or four hours yet before our folks came home — and they always called ahead on these occasions to say they were on their way and to inquire what kind of pizza we wanted — a tradition following their antique-hunting expeditions because Mom was always too tired to cook.

The master suite had originally been the back parlor and several maids� rooms, all of which had been knocked together to make a nice, big bedroom/bath combination with a sun porch thrown in. We went in and I found myself tiptoeing for absolutely no good reason. I went around to Dad�s side of the bed while Julie climbed up into the middle of it and assumed a sultry pose while she watched me searching through the mahogany commode next to the bed. I couldn�t believe it when I didn�t find anything.

I sat up and spread my hands in bewilderment. "I happen to know Mom doesn�t take birth control pills for some kind of medical reason. I overheard them discussing it once. Besides, they�re aren�t the sort to take chances."

"You�re right," Julie added. "I think she�d still use protection even if she was on the pill." She looked over her shoulder. "Maybe . . ." She hopped off beside the matching commode on Mom�s side and opened the bottom drawer. "Bingo!" She held up a small carton and grinned. "I guess Mom�s the supply sergeant in the family!"

"Take two," I said, "just in case. We�ll just have to assume they don�t keep inventory."

"Oh, there�s another carton in there, too, Kev. An unopened one. I think we�re safe." She carefully tucked the open carton back in the drawer and displayed the two gold foil coins she had removed from the stash. Then she looked thoughtfully at the king-size bed for a moment.

"I don�t suppose we could . . ."

"No," I said firmly. "Not here." I took her hand and led her unresistingly out of the master bedroom. "Screwing my sister is one thing. But doing it in our parents� bed, . . . well, that�s another thing." She grinned all the way back upstairs as she tried to read the microscopic print on the foil packages.

Without discussing it, we went to my room this time. My bed was a queen-size, older but comfortable, and definitely bigger than Julie�s twin. Between the top of the stairs and my bedroom door, my cock had suddenly caught on to what was about to happen and was stretching its muscles. It was sticking out like the bowsprit on the Good Ship Lollypop.

My little sister climbed onto my bed without hesitation, small breasts twitching and ass muscles flexing. My whole universe seemed to be narrowing down to just her inviting little body. I paused with one knee on the bed and tore the edge off the foil wrapper. Julie leaned closer to watch as I carefully rolled the sheath down over my erection, which was literally beginning to throb. She reached out and very gently touched the translucent tip, then smiled up at me.

"Okay, big brother, I guess this is it, then. So, um — what do I do?"

I stroked her cheek. "The most important thing you need to do right now is, you have to say to me �I want you to fuck me, Kevin�. It�s important."

She looked up at me. "I want you to fuck me, Kevin." She said it softly and seriously. "And I really mean it. I really want you to do it."

I gently pressed her back and she scooted toward the head of the bed. When she reached the pillow, she squirmed herself comfortable, then tucked her hands behind her head and spread her legs open in a vee. I pushed her feet up to make her bend her knees, then moved up close so my penis was only a inch away from her pussy. I opened her up with both hands to avoid pinching her — I figured she must be tight — and I leaned forward and carefully pushed the head of my cock into her. She squeezed her eyes shut and grimaced.

I paused. "Am I hurting you, babe?"

"No, no, keep going. I just didn�t know. . . ." She gave me a watery smile and raised her hips a bit in invitation.

I pushed farther into her, bending over her and bracing myself on my arms. She pulled her knees back to open herself up even farther and after another couple of seconds I glanced down to find my cock completely buried in my sister�s cunt. I didn�t move for a moment. I just wanted to feel how tightly her body was grasping mine. I also wanted to extend this experience as much as possible. Ordinarily, the fact that I had already come a half-hour before would have allowed me to pace myself, but this was an extra-ordinary situation.

I looked back at Julie�s face and her eyes seemed enormous. She was biting her lip and breathing loudly through her nose. "It feels so strange," she murmured. "And so big."

I began slowly moving in and out of her, being careful not to ram myself into too hard. We had plenty of time and I didn�t want to take the chance of causing her any pain. As I settled into a rhythm, Julie hooked her heels behind the small of my back and began humping me back at each thrust. She was whispering something and after a moment I realized it was "yes, yes, yes, yes," over and over.

"Is this what you expected, babe?"

"No," she said. "I never expected it to feel like this. I sort of thought it would be like masturbating, but it�s, . . . just . . . it feels incredible. Oh, Kev, it feels so good. . . ." She gulped and focused on my face. "Can you make me come? When you come?"

Wow, a challenge. I got my balance, then unwrapped her legs from around me and pressed her knees back to her chest, holding her small feet in my hands. I knew she was pretty flexible and I had no trouble pushing her feet back on either side of her head so she was nearly folded in half. Then I started thrusting harder and deeper. I knew she was putting out plenty of moisture now because my organ was moving so smoothly inside her, even though she was incredibly tight.

Julie starting making moaning sounds that I thought at first were cries of pain. Then she pushed her hands up between her legs and hung onto my neck, and said, "Fuck me hard, Kevin. Do it, do it, make me come, oh, god, oh, don�t stop, just fuck me, fuck me. . . ." Her voice trailed off and a look of anticipation came into her eyes. Her fingers began digging into my neck and then she was gasping and twitching.

I bent forward as she climaxed and kissed her on the lips and she kissed me back hard, almost viciously. And I had the thought, "I�ve just fucked my little sister to an orgasm." And that sent me right over the brink after her, filling the reservoir at the tip of the condom to the bursting point. I felt like a grenade had exploded in my groin. I mean, it�s weird: I�ve had God knows how many hundreds of orgasms in my life, and — of course — they�re all enjoyable. But now and then, because of circumstances or whatever, I�ll come with an intensity that makes me see little flashes of light in my peripheral vision. This was like that. Fucking Julie, making her come, then coming myself, was one of those extraordinary times.

Like most guys, if they�re being honest, I really wished I could have done it without the condom. I really wished I could feel my semen splashing away up into the depths of her. But getting my fourteen-year-old sister pregnant was definitely not part of the program.

I let myself collapse on top of her in a semi-controlled fashion, allowing her legs to escape in the process. I wanted to stay inside her awhile longer. Julie hooked her heels behind my knees, and wrapped her arms around my neck, and sighed.

"That was so, so incredible, Kevin."

"You�re incredible, Julie. My sweet little sister is a sex bomb." She hugged me harder for that.

We lay like that for a few minutes, not wanting it to end, not wanting to physically separate. Until, of course, the bedside phone rang and we both instantly levitated six inches off the mattress.

I rolled over and grabbed it while Julie covered her mouth with both hands to stifle her giggling.

"Hello, Mom. Find anything at the auction? Oh? I guess they�ll have to deliver something like that." I rolled my eyes and Julie looked like she was going to choke to death with hilarity. "Yeah, definitely — extra-large, thick crust." (Pause.) "Um, the usual, what we always get. That�s fine. (Another pause.) No, Mom. No anchovies. No, no broccoli, either. C�mon, Mom, you know what we all like. Yeah, okay. And I�ll get a jug of iced tea made up before you get here. Right." I switched the phone off. "Guess who that was," I said. Julie let out the laughter she had been smothering and I aided and abetted by pinning her down and tickling her.

After a minute, though, we settled down and climbed off the bed. Julie put her hands in the small of her back and stretched with a dramatic groan. "You�re heavy," she complained. "I�m not sure I can even walk."

"Okay," I said, and picked her up and tossed her over my shoulder. She squealed and pounded at my back as I carried her down the hall to her own room, where I dropped her on her bed. Then she surprised me. I expected her to take a playful swipe at me but instead she hopped up, flung her arms around my neck again, and kissed me very thoroughly. So I held her in my arms and we kissed for several minutes. And then it was time to get practical. I picked up my shorts from her floor and headed back to my room for a tee-shirt while my sister dug out clean clothes for herself and hung her robe on the hook inside her closet.

Down in the kitchen, while I made tea and Julie set out the plates and silverware and turned on the warming drawer below the oven, we kept glancing at each other and smiling. We were going to have to be careful about that or we�d give ourselves away. And as I was slicing up a lime for the tea, my little sister leaned her head against my shoulder and stroked my chest.

"The next time there�s an antique auction, big brother, I get to be on top. Okay?"

—- END —-

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Copyright 2012 by Michael K. Smith. Copies may be made and posted elsewhere for personal enjoyment, but all commercial rights are reserved.