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All characters over eighteen.
Part 3 of 6.
Orange light from nowhere hangs above.
Our shoes sit in a pile next to the oversized tub, except for one of my sister’s that’s exiled in front of the bathroom door.
I thread in the metal screw, and the cork bursts out with a bright pop. Several fingers of red splash into two stemless wine glasses, and I hand one to my sister. She clinks my glass and we sip.
She wraps the towel around herself. But not really. She’s wields it more like a cloak.
Then my sister pulls hard from her drink. She stares at me over the rim, and a smile creeps across her lips.
“I need your help with something.” She sets the glass next to the open bottle by her bag on the table.
I stare into the green. She looks at my drink, then back at me.
The remainder of my wine departs, and I clang the glass next to hers. She rips off her towel and throws it against the TV, then tears the covers off the nearer of the two colossal beds. The top blanket, and the one underneath both tumble into a heap at the foot. My sister takes my hand, and pulls me onto the sheets. From her force, this is not optional. She tugs at my clothes as we climb, and I’m glad she’s already taken care of her impossible jeans.
My sister watches me, silent and still. So I spin her around on her knees, and squish the side of her face into a pillow. I push myself inside her, and she breathes out, rocking back against me.
The orange light glows over our white linen platform, as I pump back and forth. She matches my rhythm. I unstick my palm from her face, and wrap my fingers around her hair, pulling her neck back. My sister groans, and pushes against me harder. She’s rubbing herself underneath with one hand, propped up on her elbow with the other, though I hold most of her weight by the tether I’m grasping.
Her breathing quickens, and she rubs faster, as I try to match her speed. My sister tightens around me, and she whimpers. I’ve gotten careless with my grip on her head, and I’m jerking her around as I race to catch up, then she’s limp in my hands when I fill her.
I collapse next to her, and she springs back to life. My sister rolls on top of me, and kisses my lips, spreading her fingers wide on both sides of my face. Then she jumps off the bed, and begins pouring more wine.
I’m staring at the orange glow coming from I’m not sure where in the ceiling.
A glass with three fingers of red materializes in front of my face. I take the offering and sit up against the pillow. Over on the table, the bottle is nearly gone.
“How much wine did you bring?” I ask.
“Plenty.” My sister drains her glass, and climbs on top of me. “We’re doing this like ten more times tonight.”
We stop running when we reach the gravel. I’m out of breath and my sister is stumbling.
I’d let go of Jessica at the other side of the bridge, and we came back down an alley behind the shops. Luckily we didn’t see Kirsten or Dad anywhere when we crossed the main road. On the way out to dinner, my sister and I had scurried out the front door, to avoid answering any questions my mother might have. Now the house sits dark behind a single glowing porch light.
“Is Mom working tonight?” asks Jessica.
“No, this is her night off.” I try the door, and it’s locked, so I slip in my key.
Jessica tosses her bag down on the kitchen table, and I parade down the hall clicking lights.
“Does she always leave notes for you?”
“Just if she wants me to do something when she’s out.”
Jessica lifts a coffee mug off a piece of paper, and reads. “Mom says, ‘I’m going out tonight. I’ll be back tomorrow. Please lock up.'” My sister looks at me. “Where would she go? It’s 9 PM on a Friday. Is she seeing someone?”
“Not that I know of.”
“We could text her. Oh, fuck, what if Dad already told her?”
“I don’t think so. I’m pretty sure he didn’t see us. And she wouldn’t stay out all night for that.”
“I guess we have the house tonight,” I say. “Whatever that’s worth.”
“I need to be in my bed right now.” Jessica returns the coffee cup to its station above the note, and drags her bag off the edge of the table.
“Can I come sit with you?”
I lock the kitchen door and extinguish all the lights I’d only just lit. Then I’m leaning against my sister’s doorway watching her toss two black shoes with tall finger-wide heels on the floor. She curls up at the head of her bed with her knees tucked under her arms.
“Can we talk, or do you want to wait?” I push the door shut. There’s nobody home, but it seems like the thing to do.
“Now, I guess.” She sits up and leans against the headboard.
“Does Dad have photos of me up at his office? Or on his phone? Does he ever show off family?”
“No, you know Dad.” Jessica’s voice drips with scorn. “If he were to put a photo up, it would be of himself.”
“So there’s no way Kirsten knows what I look like.”
“I don’t think so, but she knows me. The question is Girne Escort if she thinks I saw Dad there and them going at it.”
“What would she do?”
“I guess she’d say, ‘Oh Emm Gee, your daughter is over there and saw you squeezing my tits.'”
“And Dad would do what?”
“Deny it, until he can’t anymore. Then do something drastic. Like he did to Mom.”
My sister keeps turning her head back and forth, and I realize I’m pacing at the foot of the bed.
“What if Dad saw us, though?” says Jessica. “The worst of it.”
“If he did, there’s not much we can do. But I really don’t think he saw us. He was back by the rose bushes on a call or something.”
“What about when we were on the street?”
“The crowd was in the way.”
Jessica stretches her legs out and crosses them at the ankles. “Would Mom kick us out if he told her about us?”
“I don’t think so. But I don’t know. What would Dad do to us? How drastic would he be?”
“Depends. If he could work it into some justification, maybe nothing. Then again, he could cut us off. No more school.”
“Would he get me fired from work?”
“If it he thought it would make him look bad, yes, in a heartbeat.”
I pinch my eyes shut, and squeeze my temples with my thumbs.
“Okay,” says Jessica. “let’s assume Kirsten saw me with just some guy, and told Dad that. That’s actually not that bad.”
I pry my eyes open, and force myself to stand still. The hem of Jessica’s dress is scrunched up nearly to her waist, giving me a tall view of her naked legs. I try not to think about it.
“If he’s just fucking another coworker, as horrible as that is to say, he’ll probably just want to bury this.” Jessica leans off the headboard. “He’ll swear Kirsten to secrecy under pain of no deep dicking, or whatever, and that will be that.”
“He’ll either want to bring it up, or he won’t.” I sit down at the foot of the bed. “Meaning, we’ll either hear from him, or we won’t.”
“Yes. And you’re very sure he didn’t see us?”
“Yeah, there’s no way. He was on his phone, and then he was all over her.”
“Okay, so we assume Kirsten saw me, plus somebody I was kissing.”
“What are you going to say if he brings it up?”
Jessica shrugs. “I met somebody here. We went out for dinner once, and that’s it.”
“I just realized we left without picking up our food.”
“Maybe they gave it to the horny werewolves.”
My sister stares at her feet, outstretched toward me.
“You okay?” I ask.
“My feet hurt. From running.” She glares at the pile of footwear beside the bed.
“Do you wear heels like that much?”
“Just when I want to be fancy.” The last word comes out as a defeated laugh.
“Want me to rub your feet?”
“I won’t yell at you, if you do.”
I climb up on the bed next to Jessica’s knees, and take hold of her foot. I don’t have a clue what I’m doing, so I just rub the arch, and push the tight parts.
“Can you go a little harder?”
I work my thumb into her heel, and Jessica groans.
I work in deeper, as my sister lays on her side. She closes her eyes and groans like I’m touching a different part of her. I continue with her foot for some time, before switching to the other one, but my hands don’t last as long as I expect, and I have to quit.
“Mm-hmm. Thank you.”
I’d originally wanted to fuck Jessica in that yellow dress as quietly as possible, in case Mom was awake. But those plans are long gone. I lay down next to her and stare at the ceiling. Paint peels away in the corners.
“I don’t know what we’re doing, Alex.”
“Like, with Dad?”
“All of this. The things we do. This stuff.” She waves her hand between us in the air, pointing to us laying on her bed.
“You want to stop?”
“You’d drop me, just like that?” She sounds hurt.
“No, I– That’s not what I meant.”
“Sorry.” My sister sighs. “Everything is confusing. I can’t keep it straight in my head. You shouldn’t just dump a girlfriend though.”
I look at Jessica’s face. She opens her eyes, and pinches her eyebrows together, as if she doesn’t understand her own words.
“Oh. Fuck.” Jessica rolls against me, and crosses her leg between mine.
Getting to know my sister.
The early blue dawn pools through Jessica’s window. She lays ensconced in her purple comforter, and I shiver next to her with no blankets. I lean over the edge of the bed as gingerly as I can, and step out into the hallway.
Mom’s bedroom hasn’t been touched. No messages on my phone, but the day can still direct many horrors my way. I look for a Pop-Tart, but we’re out, then I put on a pot of the African Royalty coffee, and stop by my room to find my robe. The bedrooms have old baseboard heaters that take forever to get warm, so I turn mine to full, and tie my robe over my clothes.
I station myself at the table waiting for the coffee to brew and thumb through texts on my phone. Regular texts, and blue dot texts, alike. Rachel still lurks in there, for some reason. I open Dad’s message window, and the last text is from ages ago about Kıbrıs Escort something I’ve long since forgotten. He’ll no doubt be in contact today, though likely through my sister. I feel a little better about things, after sleeping on it, but I still have no idea where this is headed.
She called herself my girlfriend.
The coffee pot beeps to inform me it’s finished, then the hiss of the shower spreads across the house. I take two mugs down the hall, and knock on the door.
“You can come in.”
I open the door wide, and set one cup on the counter, then lean against the doorframe listening to the splashing sounds. The orange aroma overpowers me, and gives my coffee a different flavor.
I say, “I kind of like that stuff now.”
“That orange wash.”
The splashing continues for a while, and I stand with my coffee under my nose.
“I figure,” says my sister from behind the curtain, “Dad will probably text or even call me, if he’s going to bring it up.”
“What are you going to say?”
“I’ll just let him talk and tighten whatever stupid story he weaves around himself, and I’ll use the cover story of the ‘date boy’ if I have to. No way to know when it might be. He’s not really attached to his phone like most people.” The water shuts off with a clunk, and Jessica reaches for a towel.
“And then we’ll just… see?” Jessica steps out, naked and dripping. She scrubs her hair with the towel.
“I brought you that.” I point my mug at the one on the counter.
“Ooh, thank you.” She wipes her sides once, then tosses the towel over the curtain. Jessica smooches me quickly, then turns to her coffee on the counter. I groan when she lifts the mug.
Jessica smirks, and sets the coffee down without taking a sip. She locks her fingers behind my head, and kisses my lips, leaning her full weight into me. I stumble back out of the doorway, into the hallway mirror, barely staying on my feet. I pull her hips against me with one hand, trying to balance both of us, while also not spilling my coffee. Her skin slips under my fingers, but I manage to keep us both standing.
“That tastes good,” says Jessica. She lets go of me, but I still hold her waist. My sister leans back in for another taste, before pulling her head away once more. “Can I drink my own now? Or do I need to kiss you for like 20 minutes?”
I let go, having gotten more than I was after, and watch Jessica don her robe. Next, it’s my turn to use the orange suds, and then I’m standing on the bathmat wrapped in my robe, drying my hair with a towel.
Jessica appears in the doorway, grinning ear to ear.
“What’s up?” I ask
“I just got a text from, well, guess who?”
“Not Dad, or you’d be making a different face.”
“No, but you’re close.”
“Yes. She’s not coming home today.”
“What the fuck? Where is she?”
“She says…” Jessica lifts her phone and reads. “‘I’m staying at the beach again tonight. Take care of things. I’ll be back tomorrow.'” She lowers her phone.
“What is she doing?”
“I asked her, and she says she’s having a wonderful time wine tasting with Phil. Who is Phil?”
“I have no idea.” I throw the towel over the shower curtain.
“Well, she’s having a good time drinking wine with him. And it’s not even noon.”
“She’s never done anything like this.”
Jessica stands in the doorway while I mess with my hair. It’s usually low maintenance, but for some reason today it won’t behave, and keeps sticking up in the middle. The more I mess with it, the more it sticks up. My sister watches me work, still in her robe, towel on her head, phone in hand. She stows her phone in the robe pocket and holds out her hand, palm up, like she wants me to hand her something. And she still has that stupid grin on her face. She closes and opens her hand twice, so I take hold of it.
Then I’m pulled down the hall into my bedroom.
Two palms strike my chest, and I’m falling back onto my bed. I bounce off the springs, and my sister crashes on top of me. Her robe vanishes sometime during my reverse flight, and she quickly unfastens mine. Long wet streaks rain down on my face when she leans over and kisses me. My sister pushes all the buttons she knows to get me hard. It doesn’t take long, and then she’s riding on top of me, door open, bathroom fan still on, robes and towels tossed every which way.
I hold her hips while she works herself front to back on me. Jessica palms my chest, occasionally leaning over to meet my lips. I briefly consider turning her over, but this is her party. I’ve done the same thing to her a bunch of times. She gets where she wants to go, tensing, and shaking on top of me. After she recovers, she goes back at it.
“Is this safe?” I start to get close. “We always do this.”
Jessica’s eyes are pinched shut, as she sits tall, moving back and forth on me. “Mom’s gone all day.”
“No, I mean, we never use protection.”
“I have an IUD.” She twists her hips, and it’s almost too much.
“Is that enough?” If I were more responsible, I’d have Kıbrıs Escort asked her about this ages ago.
“It’s really good. I got it after–” Her hair freezes my chest when she leans over to kiss me. “I love it when you cum in me.”
She gets what she wants quickly after that.
Then we’re laying in my bed, wet from the shower, and everything else. Jessica twists my hair, and pulls strands of it around, like she’s arranging flowers in a vase.
I say, “Yeah, it’s all messed up.”
“You’ve got a blond swirl thing going on. If anyone asks…” My sister rolls on top of me and arcs her back, pushing her breasts into my chest in an exaggerated show. She spreads her fingers wide, and presses her palms against my temples, while she looks in my eyes. “Just say a girl fucked you while your hair was wet.”
“Should I tell them who it was?”
Something rattles on the floor.
It rattles again. Then a third time, and several more.
“Is that your phone?” I ask.
“Oh fuck, that could be Dad.” Jessica peels herself off my chest, and scoops up her robe under my doorway, freeing her phone from the pocket. “Unknown number. Voicemail.” She holds the phone to her ear.
I watch her face, and the wheels behind the green turn. She listens for some time, before lowering her phone.
“That wasn’t Dad. That was Kirsten.”
I lean over and pay the cab driver, while my sister lofts above us from the curb.
Then we’re glaring at the restaurant side by side, but she’s still taller than me. Jessica wears an ankle-length sleeveless black dress, while I called it good when I found a clean shirt with a collar. But I’m also not looking to attract attention.
“How bad is it?” I wave my hand over my hair above my ear. I can’t tell if it feels any different with the dye in it.
She cocks her head back and frowns, then makes tweezers with two fingers on top of my head. “Okay, you look good.”
Jessica poses with her hand on her hip, jutting her elbow out at an angle. I want to take her by the arm, but we’re trying to act normal. This is the same pose she was making in the kitchen when we hatched our plan.
“That was the weirdest hour of my life,” said my sister.
“How bad is it?”
“I… don’t know.” Jessica drops her purse and phone on the table, and walks over to the sink. “They don’t know about us. At least, I don’t think they do.”
“Okay, that’s good. So, what did you talk to Kirsten about?”
“A whole lot of nothing, mostly.” Jessica takes two steps toward the door, stopping in front of the coffee pot, then turns around. “She talked about Dad a bit, without ever mentioning what they’d been up to. It was more like work stuff. Some project they’re on, with payroll and new hires and whatnot. I just had to sit there and act agreeable.”
“Did she mention me?”
“Yes, but not how you think. I don’t think she recognized you, but she did ask about my date.” Jessica puts her hands on her hips, and continues her walk. “Made a comment that I seemed pretty into him, but I played it off. I just about said “my brother” at one point. I should get an Oscar for that part.”
“I’m not done. This is where it gets weird. She wants me to go to dinner tonight with her and Dad, and asked me to bring my boyfriend.” Jessica unties her hair, and pulls her fingers down it, like she’s playing a harp. She paces back and forth, as she works her hair. “I didn’t say ‘yes’ for you. But I told them I would go. You don’t have to do this. The way it sounded, Dad wants to see us, in some fucked up normal capacity, and she’s a tag along as his business partner… I think.”
“There’s so much wrong with all that.”
“I know, but I can say you’re busy or something. I’ll go run interference.”
That’s quite an offer, coming from my sister.
“No,” I say. “I’ll go.”
“Won’t she recognize you?”
“Maybe. But I’ve got a stupid idea.”
“You okay?” My sister stands tall with her hand on her hip, next to the valet podium. Something about her at that height is hot, but I try not to think about it.
“Yeah. Let’s do this.”
We gloss through the frosted glass double doors of the restaurant, over thick dark carpet, and pass between two ceiling-high water tanks filled with bright striped fish of every imaginable color. Red lighting strips line the sides of the entrance under the tanks, and stretch out wider as we reach a chest-high desk in front of a fountain. A hidden source of light under the water gives the sprouting water a crimson glow, making it look like an aquatic rose. A man with a black suit and a red tie informs us that our party sits at the bar, and we can join them, or head to our table. Our choice. I look at Jessica, while the maître d’ waits.
“The table, please,” says my sister.
We follow the host down several steps into the main dining hall, bathed in dim light from something above I can’t locate. Each table also hosts a flickering centerpiece. Forks scraping, and plates clanging occasionally interrupt the hum of mingling diners. It smells like fish and candles. The dark carpet under my feet squishes more, and I step on the side of my shoe, but manage to keep from twisting my ankle. White tablecloths adorn every surface, and paintings of red poinsettia leaves stretch out in waving vines down each wall. Diners occupy nearly every table on the floor, and I scan for familiar faces.
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