4-4-1 Guys at a Bar Pt 02

I abhorred to leave the party so early after such a successful venture, but one look at me tre amici, and I thought of their wallets, and of the pictures within. With the taste of pussy still on my cock, I couldn't help but think of Becky's picture in my wallet with something written on the back to the tune of "Thanks, Derrick, that was the best night of my life," with an imprint of her lips in the midnight purple lipstick she wore.

So off we went, she and I, off to the trolley that would convey us most of the way home once we walked to it, to be followed by another walk lasting a few blocks. She was tipsy, quite tipsy. I could have tried to ignore the smell coming off her, but with my hand on the small of her back guiding her steps, it was hard to avoid the reek of expensive beer and sex.

It should've bothered me that she was sexually active, but I didn't let it; that was one of my angles of being "the good brother". She didn't concern me terribly through my life since she would be there with me, but I always liked her, and now I liked liked her. She felt free to tell me any dirty secrets she might have, but she rarely did.

She was babbling nonsense now and then to tell me she was on the verge of being drunk, but not enough to be serious trouble for "the old people in the house". We snuck in through the side door, and I got her upstairs, and into her bed. I had to stop short of pulling her outer layer of clothes off, but she pulled me close for an appreciative (if chemically aided) kiss, which landed dangerously near my lips.

I got back to my own room next door as quickly as I could, but my heart was pounding out of my chest. I threw off my clothes and threw myself into my bed to deal with the raging erection that had been threatening to expose me to my sister on our walk.

Once my fingers were wrapped around my package, everything was gravy. The cute little girl tasting herself on my finger, then each of my friends' sisters, and finally Becky, showing even pretend affection for me. I had only gotten off once that night, which made the party a technical failure; post-party fapping was something of a shame, but I couldn't get my hand off myself.

Faster and faster I stroked, trying to cure myself of this disease brought on by infected women. Call it cooties; it's all pretty much the same. It was hard to respect them, dressing like they do and then flirting with everyone in sight all night, but it was hard to tell your swollen cock that. All it wanted was for you to feed it as many of them as possible.

And right then, it wanted me to feed it my sister. She was just lying there in bed, hardly able to move from exertion and drink. She had even kissed me, if only just. With just that one sign that she even possibly wanted me, I squirted out far too much messy goodness to be allowed, and finally I could sleep. Sleep, and an early morning for stupid school.

********

Ahh... delicious beer after a boring day at school. And the night before, I got my rocks off pretty good with a chick who was dynamite in the sack, and she never got my number. Life be good. It sucks a little that she got my name, but she was good enough for a second try, if I gave second tries.

"So?"

"So what, motherfucker?"

"Don't give me that innocent look, dickwad, did you score?"

Ah, boys. They can be cute at times. It was almost a certainty that Bill didn't get any at the party, the way he was bugging me. Sam, Sam doesn't give a shit. He pretty much gets his whenever he wants it. As the story goes, his father taught him how. I've been considering taking lessons as soon as I got the cash together.

But Sam, he didn't care whether we got ours. He got his, and he'd just smile down at us, who merely might have gotten laid. Dree almost never got his, and I was about as hopeful as Bill.

"What, that blond? It was alright," I said coolly. No point in sounding too pleased with myself.

"Psh; everyone knows you fucked her," Bill laughed. "I mean your sister."

"Oh, yeah. I actually caught her upstairs with some idiot, but they ran out. I donno what she got up to after that."

"Yeah, but you left with her, and she was pretty sauced."

"She still had plenty of time, though I don't think anyone followed her into her bed, if that's what you're asking."

Bill's face fell to the table and Sam had a good chuckle.

"What're you looking so voluminous about?" Dree snapped at Sam.

Ooh, brave man. Sam wasn't exactly prideful, but he didn't exactly take much shit. Not much at all.

So I was surprised when he clammed up. Turned a few shades of red, too. Now Dree was Sam's cousin of sorts, so he had mocking rights from getting all the dirty secrets from the family, and he was the one out of us who wasn't scared to take a little stab to wound Sam's pride. Sure, we'd make jokes that would threaten a man's sexuality, but not his manliness. That was for the girls. If that wasn't enough, Dree was like four years older than the rest of us. Not that that mattered; four years is huge when you're in high school (try dating a fourteen-year-old when you're eighteen. Shit doesn't work), but it's next to nothing when you're twenty, twenty-one and in college. Becky, she brought home a thirty-five-year-old like eight minutes after she turned eighteen.

"I take it I missed something," I said with giddy interest. Sam didn't take much heat, and Dree didn't speak up too often. Something was amiss, and I make it my vow to discover what.

"Miracle Man here, guess who he ran into."

Having seen him take four times as much tail upstairs than anyone else that night, I wasn't sure if it mattered who Sam had or hadn't seen. Not even Sultry Sally would spend two seconds on him. Unless...

"No," I stammered with growing amusement and a growing grin.

Sam raised a threatening eyebrow when I glanced at him, but my ears were all for the other two gentlemen at the table.

"Bill? Do this be true?"

"She shows up shaking in her heels," Bill said, joining in on the fun, "spots him chilling with us, and comes charging over."

Tiffany may be the most adorable little girl you've ever seen, but even cute numbers like her can have wicked streaks.

"Right up to the old poker game, eh?"

"Kweh," Dree affirmed. "Started chewing him out, right then and there. I thought I was gonna lose my beer."

"But you managed to keep it down; we even got another pint into you before the night was through," Bill added helpfully, "though you lost that hand, if I recall."

"So Tiffany," Dree continued, "she's all on about broken trust, how his nasty friends..."

"That'd be us, if you weren't paying attention," Bill added again.

"...Would go spilling to their little girlfriends, and all of a sudden everyone would know."

"Didn't stop her from yelling at him about it smack in the middle of a party, did it?"

"I wonder if anyone told her boyfriend."

"Was he even there with her?"

"You know him; high school extra curricula and all that."

"Uh huh. 'extra' curricula."

"No, seriously. The guy's a book-dwerb."

"Poor guy. If only he knew."

Sampson chose that moment to grunt a warning at anyone thinking about making implications about his sister.

"Sam, bro," I said, still with humor written across my face, "you know that in my heart I think Tiff is a great girl, not slutty at all." Calling a man's sister a slut was just uncalled for. "And out of respect for you, I keep her hand out of my pants, but just so we're clear, I don't think she's that much of a challenge."

"Yeah, man," Bill continued, ever-helpful, "without Sally on your list, I don't think you'd qualify as having gone the distance."

"She was there, too," Dree interjected.

"Seriously? How'd that go down?" Now it was getting good, and I was started to get frazzled at my sister for pulling me out of what was turning out to be a pretty interesting pool party. After all, while Tiffany furious with her brother for leaking about their private endeavors was rather interesting, she wasn't all that complicated. Never someone you could take seriously. Salamandy, on the other hand, had a brain; she just happened to love sex, wheres with Tiffany it was more accidental. What made it fun was that Salamandy doesn't really like Sampson and she hates Tiffany.

"And the twins there as well, if I recall," Bill mentioned.

"Dang, full house. Drivved, my man, you were saying?"

"Ah, yes," Dree began, taking on airs of significance with the aid of the atmosphere and his frothy brew, "twas the fortnight of..."

"Ah, can it," Sam blurted out, making the rest of us sputter with ill-concealed mirth. "Who was off with your sister, now that we're on the subject?"

"Me?" I answered innocently, "I already mentioned, didn't I?" True, it was nothing for me to cheer about, but I was good enough to play it off without taking too much flack away from the wounded Sampson.

The drinking done and the day with it, we cheered ourselves and each other one last time before retiring that Saturday to prepare for... you guessed it, another boring day of school. For me, at least. I haven't got a fucking clue what the rest of them do Sunday morning.

******

Fuuuck, my neck gets tired awful fast. I honestly enjoy college classes after surviving the nightmare that was high school, but it seems I cannot escape my fate of continuing to warm an uncomfortable school desk for three hours at a time in pursuit of an education I had yet to discover a use for. My pain was somewhat eased by the constant presence of the crunchable college girls that were taking trig with me. I never get tired of looking at something I don't want, and catching a glimpse down someone's obnoxiously open shirt always brightens my day.

Sunday. Sunday was not the best of days in Rotterdale. Fridays and Saturdays, those were bumping. Sunday was a day of rest. We weren't overly religious; we have a temple and a cathedral and a church. Still, it's... what's the word? "Grownups' Day". They finish with church or whatever and peruse through town rather than work. They even spend time with their kids. Not a good day for hunting scratch, not good at all. With my parents off work as well, it's just time for me to spend in school since there's nothing else worth doing.

And now class is over for the day. Six in the evening, and Rotterdale is back in the twenty-forties, when my parents were my age. Can't even go to Julie's since it's cramped full of old people like everywhere else.

Ergo, Bill's house.

"Hit me."

Dree got a sock on the arm from Sam.

"Bitch."

"Slut."

Somehow Dree still got his card, and he pwned all our faces with his straight.

"I hate me some Sunday, man," Bill complained. He was a pretty good host. His parents were chill when they were around and we got to sample the liquor cabinet. None of us minded seeing Sadie around, except she got used to the three of us crashing Sunday evenings and tended to be somewhere else so she didn't have to hide in her room all day.

"Want to catch a game?"

Being that Rotterdale makes both bread and butter off its huge stadium and arena, there was almost always some kind of event or another on any given day. The first Sunday of every month featured boxing, though the scene was never as hot since the great Rocky Stetzen retired, well before any of us were born.

"Hardly." Bill poured himself another few drops of Drambuie and scoffed at his incoming hand, "I'm never fucking getting laid."

"More for Drivved the great," Dree beamed. Sure enough, a few tossed cards later, he ate up the small pool of antes that could have been bigger if he had kept his foolish mouth shut.

We're not competitive gamblers by any means; we just began throwing extra money down to make the game a little more interesting once upon a time. None of us were rich, only getting small stipends from taking so many classes or baby paychecks from off-and-on jobs, and all we really had to play with after certain modest personal effects was what we called "date money."

Sure, we hit up parties every once in a while or got lucky out of nowhere, but sometimes a man likes to hit up a fine piece of ass and take her out to a proper dinner in hopes for a bit of late-night fin in a hotel room. Winning on Sunday night meant having enough to go north to a nice dinner at the nice hotel. It may impress the ladies, but it's also about spoiling ourselves by spending other people's money. Especially after winning it from them.

Tonight, Dree was in line for the honors. It rather pissed us off, since he'd probably fuck up whatever date he got if he had the balls to ask a chick out, so our precious money would just fatten his pocket while the rest of us had to put up with our usual sneaking into girls' bedrooms or whatever.

Sam had it worst, there almost always being someone awake in his house when he tried to sneak in, and his dad was a real pain about his kids bringing anyone over without introducing them to him first. Tended to make sure only real friends and dates got brought over rather than Sam's usually one-night-only fare. Dree, he lived with his mom a few days a week while he went to school; the rest of the time, he was off in the Garden where he grew up. There wasn't much privacy, but you eat pretty well there and there's work for some decent money. Me, I never feel like breaking my back in manual labor.

Oh yeah, point. The four of us don't really have our own places to get laid. Hotel money is a good thing. Now on with the game.

The game was about over when Sadie came back with a few of her harpies. Rather than sit there, subjected to their schoolgirl giggles, we were faster to put whatever we had on the table. In a stroke of luck, I ended up getting a few winning hands in a row and managed to sweep the table.

"Prick," Sam muttered at me, but it could've been Dree.

"Don't deal like a horse's ass next time then," I said comfortingly as I collected my bounty. With my other two boys, I grabbed my shoes and my shirt, polished off my Knob, and headed for the door.

"Good evening, Sadie," I said quite suavely to Bill's sister, even kissing her hand in front of her friends and mine. "Night, bitch," I said over my shoulder to Bill. Ha ha ha.

****

Ahh, the possibilities of a fatty wallet. I'm not afraid of a hard day's work, but I abhor getting a job and a uniform and doing the same boring thing every day. My mom said she'd pay for me to go to school, so I did that rather than get a job. She gives me a little money because she understands that it'd be near impossible to get a job with the hours I have, but in turn her asshole husband cut me off from the fridge except for what I buy for myself. Prick.

"What're you grinning about?" my sister asked me. We don't talk much, so the thing about the party a while ago just died away without ever getting anywhere.

"Nothin', nothin'." I at my roast beast in peace, though I couldn't stop grinning.

"I'm glad you had a good day, dear," my mother added. She and her asshole husband had been off doing their thing that day, so Becky had been enjoying the run of the house until they got back. I wonder where she hides the sheets when she finishes.

Dinner at home was a bit uncomfortable. Since I was forced to buy my own food, I wasn't about to pass up a free meal, even though Mom insisted the family eat together every Sunday evening anyway. It was about the only time all four of us were in the same room. Becky and I never really got used to the asshole, see. Still, only one night a week. Never my favorite night.

The thought of a big pocket of spare change was keeping my spirits up, and it was obviously bugging Becky that she didn't know exactly what was going on in my head. I finished dinner in a timely manner and excused myself without pissing anyone off, and I was off for my room.

Knock knock.

"Go away." Usually it was my mother, if anyone, who came bugging me, but whomever it was, no one minded me acting a little bit of a jerk.

"Lemme in, you jerk," Becky called.

I let her in.

"Teh fuck you want?"

"You were smiling at dinner. It's unnatural."

"Let's just say your big brother's got a hot date set for this Friday," I beamed, more in pride than anything. Money wasn't easy, so having won a good handful of it was a pretty good feeling. That, the waiting to spend it, and the actual spending itself. Then there's the coming-down when you're broke again, but I refuse to think about that now.

"Eew! Who's the fugly bitch? That middle-schooler you fucked last Friday ago?"

So she had been thinking about it. And what the fuck? I didn't bring up me catching her with some loser.

"She was eighteen," I lied. Or not; I honestly had no idea.

Oh fucking shit... I have no idea if she was eighteen...

"You sure?"

"What you want?"

"You want to know how old she really is?" she goaded with the delight of having such a secret to torment me with.

"Not really."

I was getting nervous. I'm only twenty, but laws were getting ridiculous about 'carnal knowledge'. If you were a certain age, you couldn't touch someone a day under eighteen, though a girl a week away from her birthday is more forgivable than one about to turn sixteen. Admittedly I had quite a bit of that 'carnal knowledge' that parents were so afraid of their daughters being exposed to, but still, the town rule has always been that kids can date anyone inside the four-year range. Whether the parents knew that, the kids did. They didn't necessarily tell their parents about it, mind, especially if, say there was a sixteen-twenty?

Still, not good if someone thinks it's funny if the girl I nailed ("made a permanent dent in the bed" more accurately) wasn't quite as ripe as I would've liked for my own safety's sake. It's not really wrong, but you can't ever be too safe. And I, I hadn't bothered to be safe.

She was close to me. Glaring down at me. Her tits weren't popping out of her shirt, but there was quite a show when she bent over to give me the second degree. And those eyes... those ice-blue eyes with that jet-black hair. The contrast draws you to her eyes no matter how hard you try to look down her shirt, and then the rest of her face kicks in, usually little stylings decorating her face done with an eyebrow pencil. Absolutely...

"...Perverted."

"Huh?" Thank God I had been staring at her eyes when my mind wandered off; it wouldn't do to have been caught staring down her chest. Of course thinking that made me glance down. Her eyes were locked on mine when I looked back up.

"You're nothing but a dirty pervert," she repeated. "What if she got pregnant?"

Okay, enough. "Now you're just being silly," I snorted, standing up suddenly.

She was in the middle of a smart-ass smirk that said she knew better than I did about something, but my sudden leap forward made her stumbled. She fell back on her ass; I went with her in trying to catch her; it was a rather marvelous display of heroics on my part. Perhaps she'd rethink her high opinion of me. "You alright?"

She shoved me away and got up on her own. "You just better hope Mom doesn't find out what you did," she snapped on her way out.

To think that her lips were so close to mine and I didn't do anything about it kept me up that night. I was rock-solid, and I couldn't bear to drain the pressure out, so obviously perving over my own sister. Last night was one thing, but a second time? No, that'd be too weird, wouldn't it?

But still. Sam did it, that much everyone knew. His sister, that is, not his hand.

We thought he'd been bragging hot air, but the way Tiffany blew up at him, it was too obviously true. Was it possible? Was it? And if that line could in fact be crossed, perhaps Sam's case wasn't unique. Perhaps Sadie, that hot-and-cold fox that thought of her brother more of a scratching post than a pillar of might, had in fact given herself to him, alcohol aside. Bill can be full of shit when it comes to women, but there was a twinkle in his eye that was indistinguishable from Sam's. Were there more? Would I get my turn? Could I?

Keeping my hand off my equipment was more painful than had imagined. I almost humped a hole into my sheet, but reminding myself that I'm not the one to do my own laundry seemed to save me. For that night, anyway. After that, images of Becky in her rare moments of simple booty shorts and my old wife beaters, sitting on the washing machine, swinging her bare feet and blowing bubble gum...

God, I've got it bad.

***

So much to do. So much to do, yet so difficult to choose. Rotterdale is a small place, so the townsfolk tend to know one-another, but since some of the biggest pioneers of the new wave green public transit movement lived in this town, we were wired in to the major tracks leading to the big cities.

Not just a tourist attraction for some of the boxing and modeling celebrities we'd grown here, but our Downtown was one of the best in the area, being outside of the local metropolitan influence, and we were something of a straight shot between Raleigh and the beach. Ergo, always someone new to look at. To hunt. I'm a headhunter. It's how I get down, baby.

Too many new faces. Too many options. Makes me freeze up. All an enterprising young malchik like myself wants is five or so fins to choose from, but I've got a hundred today it seems. To shorten my options, I'll stick in one spot: The beach.

Loveliest beaches on the east coast were right on our doorstep. It wasn't summertime, but who gives a shit? There was still shopping and walking to be done. Since this bit of land went environmentally friendly, people are on their feet more often, and the beach was practically dragged closer to their feet with the introduction of mass transportation without the heartbreak of public parking.

I found myself an empty seat on a tiny table in a French café. The owners were French, so they could give less of a fuck if you sat in their chair all damned day long, but it was a courtesy to buy at least a mug-full when you sat down. It was a small price to pay for delicious, quality product, what you come to expect being so close to Rotterdale Proper.

The primary advantage I was looking for from this spot was the view. If I stretched my legs just a bit, I'd get sand on my feet. I could see the whites of people's eyes when they got licked by the mild waves. There was decent trim this time of year, and it was a hot day.

This all seems like a rather do-withoutable bit.

Giggling drew my attention; a pair of blue eyes glanced at me from under a frame of dark red hair. Holly Childer, Dree's sister. Rumored to be turning eighteen in about eight minutes, but no one had the balls. Her older sister Kairi was more of a reclused, blond mouse that no one found attractive despite her credentials, but Holly looked like she'd break you in half with one innocent, blank stare.

Always wore the same style outfit: Long, black sleeve-gloves, black thigh-high socks under a pleated skirt or summer dress, and a black headband that kept her chin-length, straight red hair out of her face. Had one of those bodies that looked like it would break your heart when it dropped.

Our eyes locked. My crotch stirred. Firstly, she was Dree's sister. Second, she probably didn't know if she recognized me, even after I gave her a small nod of acknowledgment. Third, Ivy's as bad a sister as Sally, Becky, and Sadie, and therefore talks shit about me and the boys to everyone who'll listen, so my H-rating is probably ruined to Holly. Shame. Not that I needed it, but that's not a body you turn down, nor is the hair.

Her I know damn-well ain't eighteen yet. The last one, that was a mistake. Holly, I had my eye on, but so did half of the senior class of Rotterdale that would be freshmen in high school by the time she became of age, by which time she'd be (supposedly) working on her doctor title and probably helping teach whatever classes those boneheads taught. Me, I had an angle, being her brother's friend. But then that would be relationship territory, which spells death for my friendship with Bill. Why risk all that for a beautiful girl that I don't know? That, my friends, is the time you think with your upper brain. On with the story.

She was with a couple friends. They saw our mutual recognition, and they possibly inquired after me. I'd probably get the "friend-of-a-brother" treatment on her word, which wasn't the best of situations, but it wasn't impossible. Still, when you're out hunting heads, it's best to keep it simple. Find someone who doesn't know anyone you know. It can get hard after a while when you're on the same college scene, hence the beach.

I only wanted to do some studying today to see if the same faces popped up a few times. They were either regulars, or vacationers. I wanted someone who was just passing through, who was either staying at a hotel or had a place another town over.

So it vexed me a little bit when I saw a face I couldn't resist. Dark brown hair and icy blue eyes. Her outfit was more typical of the cityfolk, but the resemblance to my sister was only too obvious. I threw the idea away, but it kept jabbing at the backs of my eyeballs over the next few hours.

The café served a few food items, so I kept my hunger sated while I watched. I came with money to spend on a good date with a carefully-selected female, and snacking was part of that budget. One of the few times I would eat out, no matter how good the victuals are in this town. "May I sit down?"

I looked up into a pair of icy blue eyes. Eyes so clear and colorful amidst a sea of dark hair, your own eyes were drawn right to them. Breasts, not bad. Her hips were grown in. Dressed smart, but a little flashy: A young professional who hadn't forgotten how to have fun. She could be wild on the weekends and pop however many Vicaden she needed to appear immaculate for her board meeting first thing Monday morning.

"Please," I offered, standing up and pulling a chair out for her. This display of male-to-female respect was more of a learned behavior than a personal preference. Besides, I was shopping. This is when you're supposed to be charming, and who am I to turn a dolphin down that comes to my shore?

"Have you eaten here before?" I asked her when I passed her a menu.

"No," she said as I guessed she would. "I work in Raleigh, but I decided that I was finally gonna use the train pass I have to go to the beach and relax, seeing as it's pretty much right next door."

"On a Monday?" I called the garçon over and selected a pair of samplers I thought she might enjoy.

"My days are odd," she explained, "and I've only got four shifts in a week."

"Must be a nice job."

"It's a start; I don't know if I'm gonna stay in the company, though."

She was easygoing and not a complete idiot. Add that she wasn't hard on the eyes and didn't live in town, and I'd say I'd already found a winner.

"You got tomorrow off, too?" I asked boldly. The ice wasn't exactly broken, but if I wasn't going to get anywhere with this chick, I wanted to know now so I could move forward or move on.

"...Yeah, why?"

"I was just thinking, I was gonna go chill out up north for a bit, poke around a bit. Since you've already got a train pass, thought you could come along and goof off if you weren't up to anything too serious." Bless those train passes. I heard horror stories of it taking half a day to get a few dozen miles south on those horrid buses they used to have a few years ago. Now that the new mag-lev was installed coast-to-coast, you could get across the damn country in seven hours with a universal train pass.

"Aaand... what does that have to do with me taking tomorrow off?" she asked coyly, but her absent-minded, slow stirring of her coffee was a green light for me.

"You know; maybe if you wanted to get a couple drinks, make a night of it..." Ooh, I was playing it cool. Her eyes were doing the little "decision" dance. She needed more bait.

"Thing is, I usually go up there anyways, maybe once a month, treat myself a little bit. Wouldn't hurt nothin' to have a little company."

Her eye movements quickened; she was considering. Bingo. "Sure, why not?"

***

"It's kinda nice, you know? Causal dates like this."

"Totally." Turns out she had been pretty good company while I did my usual thing walking through the lesser city of "up north a ways." She didn't complain about anything, didn't spend the entire time on the phone, shared in the experience rather than just follow me everywhere or drag me everywhere. We ended up in the big hotel where all the big-scale parties end up that Rotterdizzle can't facilitate. They employ a pretty good executive chef; part of the fun about having such a budget is that you can get a room and dinner. I offered to pay for hers, but she picked up hers and mine since I had already reserved the room.

"You can just have a good time with someone you don't know, then forget about it the next day if you want to. Unless there's something special, you know?"

"Pretty much," I agreed. How nice. I didn't have to explain anything the next morning before we parted ways.

"Unless... you know, you're looking for a steady thing?" Always a catch.

"With you? Nah." Whoops. Made her frown. "I mean, you're really cool, but I think my sister would kill me if she saw you."

"Did I anger her god or something?" she asked with a short laugh.

"Nah; it's just you kind of look like her." I leaned in close to whisper, "I kinda have this thing for her. Awkward."

She had leaned in to listen, and she backed up when I had done, and with a laugh. "That's kinda cool, a little kinky." She was smiling widely, her tongue moving through her teeth to taste my scent in the air. Slightly narrowed eyes of a satisfied lioness. Bingo. Loosen the bolts a little bit. Keeps things open if you want to get a little more rompy at night.

"But I'm having a great time with you, really," I added. "I'm glad you sat down with me earlier today."

"How could I not, you staring at me for who knows how long?"

"Was I?"

She paid the check, and up we went. This hotel is really cool, by the way. The rooms all have themes. There are time-zone ones and cultural ones. We were staying in eighteen-fifties France since we met in the French café.

"This place is great!" she exclaimed. "Do you come here often?"

"What the fuck kind of question is that?" I joked. But honestly, does a girl really have to ask how often a guy stays in a hotel? Odd point real quick: They know you're no virgin, but do they really want to think you've got a new bed buddy every week? No, they want to feel rare and special. Funny thing, being that they're not, and they wouldn't keep you around a moment longer than it took them to figure out you weren't placed on the planet for advancing them in the world. It's a sickness women have.

Instead of bantering with her, I turned her around and kissed her. She was open to the idea, and held me gently as our heat worked up together. We had been building on sexual tension all day, and it was steaming out from both of us. I would have loved to undress her out of working pumps and a skirt, but I had to deal with boring white sneakers and day jeans.

Once she was de-pantsed, I set her on the bed and got to rubbing her pussy through her boring patterned panties.

"My my, you work fast, don't you?"

"Not really," I countered, "I just thought I'd do something different."

"Your room; you're the boss."

I like this girl's attitude. I might even get her number.

I kept rubbing her panties and kissing her, and her hands were equally quick to get to my own pants. Once I got her decently wet, I dropped down in front of her, slid one leg out of her panties, and went to work on her pussy.

Sweet, this girl. You never know if they shower the day before or what, but she was neatly trimmed, clean, and fresh. Very delicious. Some girls look alright on the outside, but they forget to take care of the basics.

I ate her with a bit of vigor. It's not my favorite, but I wanted to do something special to this girl.

She took it for a while, but in about three minutes she was calling for my cock. "Stay right there," I suggested, and I crawled up to the head of the bed and stuck my dick in her mouth, telling her, "touch yourself."

From my position, I could get things moving a little faster if I wanted to, plus I liked to touch her arm to feel her fingers moving inside herself. There's just not enough female masturbation in the world.

Then I fucked her, and I came in her mouth. She said she liked the taste.

"I don't normally do this, but turn over."

"I'm not that kinky."

"Come on, we've got all night. I want to give you a massage."

And so I did. When I didn't go anywhere near her tail end, she was quite surprised, though I can guarantee you that by that time she was looking for it subconsciously. We were ready for another one, but all I would do was eat her out again, which I kept up until she came pretty hard. She said she'd suck me off for a while more, but I encouraged her to keep it up once she got started, so she got me to come again, and again she swallowed.

"I like the taste," she shrugged.

"Believe me, I'm not complaining. Shower before our third go?"

"Love one. They got a spa tub?"

"Bubbles and sparkling wine included."

**************

"I fucking hate men!" Slamming doors, ect.

Hmm.

Hi, people. Me again. It's a few days or something since the hotel, now I'm back home, enjoying some quiet moments of reflection. Then my sister comes home, shouting because she'll cry if she doesn't.

A few ways to go, here. One, I play the sensitive brother who's "different" from the rest of the assholes my poor, disillusioned sister knows. Two, I can be one of the assholes by way of taunting her for been a poor, teenage victim to the more mature caste of our sick little town. Three, I can mind my own business, knowing full well that my sister in a bad mood is enough to make a grown man (me, in this case) cry.

Knock knock...

"WHAT?"

Only for her. Still, makes you wonder whether this was such a good idea. "Beck? Do you wanna talk?"

I know; I'm asking for it. But try to understand, this girl, this sister of mine, has been starting to infiltrate my dreams at school.

"No." The rejection had come fast and hard. With our parents gone, I knew she was doomed to cry in her room for the next twelve hours, possibly running up the electricity bill in the meantime.

"Maybe I can help," I offered anyways. "I couldn't help notice that it was the demon known as 'man' that you're upset at. Being one of them, I may be able to shed some light. Maybe help you understand a little? Might make you feel better?"

We haven't been scribing all our adventures, the boys and I, but I think that was the sappiest thing I've ever said. One of the reasons we don't tally is because we boys don't share these more "tender" sides of ourselves with one-another.

The door clicked open. There's my sister, looking like a goddamned beauty queen. Eyes red, but not teary. Breaks my heart in half, really it does. I may wave an "anti-woman" flag once in a while, but my sister doesn't count. She's way too cool.

She stared me down as though I was really "one of them," but I used every ounce of compassion I usually stow away and threw my arms around her.

"Derrick, what the fuck?" she exclaimed in alarm, but I ignored and hugged. It took a few seconds, but she ended up giving me a few pats on the back of her own, if only to get me off. "Away," I should say.

She parted from me and took a seat on her bed, asking, "What I wanna know is, what gives you fuckwads the right to..."

Instead of letting her build up a head of steam that might work against me, I hushed her up. "Let's go downstairs," I suggested quickly. "Mom and Assfest won't be back for a long time."

"What the fuck for?"

I asked her again, and she resisted more, but eventually she warmed up to the idea of doing something productive rather than tear up on her own for some endless hours like had happened plenty of times already. Me, I've shed a few tears of my own back in my high school days. Wasn't pretty. Becky, she was always pretty cool about it.

I sat her at the kitchen table and got a big-ass bottle of vodka. Good stuff that we boys get when we want to do some real drinking. Bill's place has every kind of good stuff; but over here, we're not supposed to drink. I get myself cranberry juice, tomato juice, shit like that you can put vodka in.

After taking a few shots, Becky seemed to be more relaxed. I was getting there as well, and at some point I put my hand on her thigh. A harmless gesture, the part of me wanting to provide physical comfort for her.

"Who was it?" I asked in due time.

"Some prick from your school," she spat, instigating Laurel University in the crime. "Why the fuck don't you guys pick on girls your own age?"

Oh dear. It seems as though my once-innocent little sister, while knowing full-well she plays the game as I do, has discovered the deeper secrets that plague our town: The Rotterdale Sickness. Do I tell her about it, or do I shush her with more comfort and more booze, then put her to bed?

"Because girls our age are all fucking their professors or their managers," I said simply. "Or the upperclassmen if everyone else is taken.

"Go fuck yourself."

I patted her on her thigh a bit, and the alcohol was helping her slouch in her chair. "I'm serious, Beck. Guys in this town are evil, but so are the girls. In college, all the chicks are taken up by older guys, usually married, or jocks or whatever. So yeah, you high school girls are kind of all there is left."

She scoffed.

"What? Like you're so busy dating high school boys?"

"At least college boys are out for an education or something," she admitted. "High school boys, they're just trying to get into the college parties, but they're not afraid to talk to girls like me, but only to get into our pants."

"So we're agreed? Everyone's equal trash all around?"

She agreed. We both drank to it and laughed it off. With a serious look in her hooded eyes, she asked, "Why can't I meet any nice guys like you, Derrick?" I got nervous about my hand being on her thigh, but she placed her hand atop it, encouraging me to grip her. This was getting dangerous.

But I couldn't help but scoff at her ridiculous claim. "Me? Nice?"

"Yes, you." Those adorable blue eyes again. That outfit, those boots...

"I gave up being a nice guy a long time ago."

"How come?" For once, she looked like she wasn't thinking about her own problems. She had turned her chair towards mine and scooted in, effectively driving my hand further up her naked thigh, dangerously close to her "I'm too mature for high school to cover my legs" skirt.

It was difficult for me to think, what with her warm skin resonating with her heartbeat under my hand. She and I, we didn't do much bonding like this, but there've been occasions. But her, gazing up at me, genuinely interested in what I had to say, leaning forward just so slightly, I just couldn't concentrate.

I purposefully rubbed her thigh some more instead, giving me something to concentrate on. "I donno, Beck." The frill of her skirt was in reach. Alcohol or whatever, I started playing with it; her fingers slid around my wrist so she could still hold my hand without disrupting me. She watched with me, but she was still curious to what I had to say. "I guess I got tired of looking and never finding a catch like you."

Her eyes brightened up right away. "You think I'm a catch?" she asked. "Really?" She scooted even further off her chair so that my hand slid under her skirt all the way to her hip. I subconsciously held her from the other side with my other hand as well as I turned to face her squarely; she seemed to be loving the attention than being put off at where her brother's hands were. But instead of the refute I expected, she was holding my elbows. It was the first time she had let go of her glass.

"Let's be honest, Becky," I said through the pounding of my heart. Probably the vodka, hard at work. "You're beautiful, I love the way you dress, you're not stupid, and you're not mean. You've never been mean to me, that is. Not really." Sure, she and I have had sibling's spats, but we were always on the level.

"Sure, there are girls who aren't empty-headed and look good, but they're all back-stabbing, heartless witches. Not you, though." Smooth, Derrick. Award-winning.

The damnedest thing happened. She leaned forward, tits trying to spill out, and kissed me.

No, not on the lips. On the cheek, somewhere. Like a sister that had just gotten the best advice from her loving older brother. With one last shot of medicine, she hopped up with new energy and fucked off back to her room.

And here I am, sitting alone in the kitchen with a boner trying to scream through my pants.

Phone.

*****************

"Nice one, Dree."

"Go farnque yourself, clunt-stubble."

Dree took his second shot, and the ball bounced off the rim like it had the first time. Sam caught the rebound, giving Dree and himself a second go around.

Our game had gone on for the better part of two hours before Sam's girlfriend called. I think it was his girlfriend. He answered when she called, which was damn-near proof enough that's who it was. It's just that he never said anything about having a girlfriend and he slept around enough for all three of us, his own sisters aside.

The other two guys and I parked our tired asses on a bench to laugh at the disposed. But as though on-cue, my own phone started ringing. I repented getting the fucking thing ever since my mother gave it to me shortly after graduating. "It's for safety while you're in college, Son," was the excuse.

"What?"

"I wanted to... umm..." My sister. It's not like she never called me before, but that she'd come looking for me rather than pick up a phone. I was usually always at the college, Julie's, or one of the guys' houses, so I wasn't hard to find to begin with.

"Becky? Problemo?"

"I wanted to... shut up!" Someone next to her had said something smart-assed to her, but something struck my attention: She was nervous. Anxious. Jittery of voice. "I wanted to tell you that I love you, and that I really appreciate what you did for me last week."

"Yeah, sure," I said absentmindedly, trying to play it off for my audience.

The phone was silent for several pointed seconds.

"Beck?"

"..."

I checked the connection. Still working. While we're not on the level of some of the machines they have for employees of the Garden like Sam's and Dree's parents, but dropping calls was almost unheard of in decades.

"Well, I love you t..."

"...My friends told me."

I wasn't used to her interrupting me, so the shock of it hit me before the shock of it. Dree and Bill both marked out somewhat silently; I knew I was set to be in quite a bit of trouble that night, and we hadn't even established what it was my sister's friends had told her. Even Sam, who's girlfriend was outgabing into his ear on speakerphone so he could listen-in on my over-loud phone conversation.

"...Told you what?" I asked as innocently as I could, having to ignore my so-called "buddies" as well as I could. Funny how they had your back except for when a woman had you by the balls. Then you were their mocking-chain.

"About you. About me. Why you were being so nice to me."

My cheeks flushed quite thoroughly. Suddenly, I was wishing I didn't keep the volume on my phone quite so high. Too bad it didn't occur to me at that moment to turn it down.

Anyways, there's me, heart beating out of control, thinking a million different things at once. She knew? She was calling to let me know? Calling to tell me she loved me? That she appreciated me? She knew?

Wait, she knew?

How could she know?

Unless she doesn't know, and she's playing with me.

"Come on, Beck. Don't be..."

"You don't have to pretend. They heard about it from your friend."

I didn't even have time to think about it. The most deadpan glare consumed my face and turned to meet the suddenly-preoccupied, big-mouthed Bill.

"What?" he asked. You could almost believe he didn't have anything to do with it.

"...Derrick? Are you there, sweety?"

"Pffffffffttt..." Dree and Bill exploded together. Sam, still a bit further down, was pfffting into his conversation with some girlfriend we've never heard of. I almost didn't notice, for Becky had never used such an endearing term for me before. I honestly thought she was incapable of it.

"I'm here," I reminded my suddenly-very-interesting sister, but my glare of doom still reminded Bill he was in hot water. "Who told you? And what did whoever it was say, anyway?"

"Okay, it wasn't technically your friend, but my best friend heard it from this guy, who said he hung out with your friend's uncle's step-son's..."

I lost track at about that point. Wait, did I say "lost track"? I meant, "lost interest". While she was blathering on, I completely forgot what she was talking about. Yet another reason I don't have a girlfriend. The girls in this town, they have a sickness. Phones are a part of it. Seriously; there's a ban on children under the age of eighteen owning phones. You legally have to have a high school diploma to purchase one; they have licenses with pictures and your address and everything.

"So it's not really his fault, and I didn't really mean to..."

"Wait, Beck, what on Earth are you talking about?"

"It's okay, D-Derrick. I know you... like me."

Back on my side of the phone, it was getting ridiculous. Bill and Dree were just at the point where it couldn't get any better. They just sat there, self-satisfied grins on their faces, each word just more money in the bank.

"Of course," I said before they could get even more annoying. "It's my job, you know? What kind of brother would I be if I didn't..."

"...And I've been thinking all week long. About you."

That shut them up. Now we were in dangerous territory. Suddenly I was glad I hadn't turned the phone down. Sampson casually hung up on his girlfriend to shamelessly listen-in at less distance. Hell, even I was hooked in, hanging on every word.

"...And I wanna do it."

"Umm... what?"

"...Will you be home tonight?"

"Umm... yeah. What'd you have in..."

"Great." Click.

And at last, empty silence. Dead air. Soon to be a ringing nothing that irritated my ears more than the nonsensical chatter of a hundred high-school girls in the middle of class time.

What the fuck just happened?

And let's not forget my mates. Bill, Dree, and Sam were all as much in a daze as I was. Their faces all confirmed that it wasn't my imaginary friend I was talking with on the phone to feel good about myself.

"Good game, blokes," Sam said after the moment of silence. "Drinks, yeah?"

"Finally joining the club," Bill said before following Sam off to the bar, a brisk pace away from the park, "good man."

Dree threw an arm over my shoulders to help return the feeling to my body, and with his help, I got moving again. "Just treat her good, alright?" he offered while I wobbled off after the two others. "This one's your sister."

**************

Ahh, Julie's: Savior of my life, purveyor of delicious beer. "I'll has another one, pls," I said to the cute bartendress.

"Isn't that about enough for you, guy?" the cute pair of eyebrows wrinkling in concern for me asked.

"Can't feel nothin' yet. Gimme 'nother one."

"His parents just died," Sam said with an assumed visage of absolute sorrow and a pat on my hand. Everyone else looked at him awkwardly, wondering what hat he'd just pulled that bullshit from, but it garnered me another beer. I raised it in his direction before choking on it.

Things were still so fuzzy. All my life, I had wond... for the past eight years or so of my life, I had wondered what it would be like to have sex. Then I had sex. With a total slut. Phenomenal in bed, but only the first two or three times. After that, it was the fall-back girl. Then, the girl who wasn't a complete pushover like the fall-back, someone like Roxanne in terms of kissing ability, but not in slutitude. Then, it was the search for the nice girl. Nowadays, and by that I mean the last few weeks, I only see my sister.

Sweet, delectable Becky. Fantasy after fantasy starring her tried to make their ways to the forefront of my imagination, only now they dared where they had never dared before with the sudden thought that maybe, someday soon even, that I would, in fact, be getting into the same bed as Becky, and not for comfort during thunderstorms.

With each delicious beer I consumed, the fantasies got more wild. I didn't dare think about one for more than a moment, refusing to get my hopes up; but in came another, even better. After my eighth beer, it was me and Becky lying naked on her bed with the black sheets, eyeing one-another.

"You gonna be alright, dude?" Bill asked.

"Fine," I slathered. No one said anything back.

Huh?

I pulled my droopy head up to see why I was being ignored. Bill wasn't looking at me, he was looking at Dree. "Wussamatter?" I asked in my prime of championship linguistics.

"Dree's thinking of dropping out the club," Sam said with something of a snigger.

"Out? Whachoo mean, out? Thur ain't no out; whachoo talkin' 'bout?" After all, once you were in, you were in. It's not like you can unbed your own sister. Who would want to in the first place?

Sam got a sock on the arm; Dree had to order a new beer. "I donno, man. Just haven't heard from her in a few days. Been meaning to ask Mom about it."

"Whfoo?"

"His sister, man," Bill offered most helpfully. "Ivy. He thinks she took off."

"You think she took off," Sam corrected. "That lucky prick's probably just getting a week-long three-way."

"Three? Week? Wuh?" The alcohol suddenly seemed feel like little more than a few beers as the conversation's logic-o-meeter unexpectedly took a turn for the basement.

"You know, his other sister's new boyfriend. You know how tight them girls are."

"Huh?"

"Ivy's been gone awhile," Dree himself explained. "Maybe out with Holly after all, but probably not, seeing as she's been pretty 'handy' with Troy for the last week or so. Holly's new boyfriend," he added before I could get even more lost.

"So Holly's busy; maybe she's with Kairi. You think about that?"

Dree contemplated that for a while by staring into his beer. "I donno. I don't see her much. In fact, haven't seen her in about..."

"...A week?"

"Shaddap, Slam."

***********

I was home before I knew what hit me. Mom and Assfuck were home, but I avoided. Upstairs, shower. No, dizzy. Best lay down a while. Maybe even a nap.

************

...And then, morning. Hangover. Pain. Water. Bright light. Fuck.

The shower didn't take any of the pain away. Neither did the jug of clear goodness from the tap kept in the bathroom for upstairs refreshment. At least by then I was thinking a little more clearly.

Oh, fuck. Becky.

"Beck?" I asked at her door. Quietly. Mom and Asshat were still around in an undisclosed location. "Look, I'm sorry about last night. If you wanna talk or anything..."

How silly do I feel, standing outside my sister's door like a whipped puppy, still in my towel and (very masculine) slippers? Sillier and sillier with each moment, that was for sure.

Why wasn't she answering?

Now I feel silly and shitty. What the fuck was I thinking, getting drunk on a night when my sister most especially asked for my attention? I don't know exactly what she wanted to get up to, but it was still completely rude of me. And here I'd just convinced her that I wasn't a complete jerk like the other men she had ever met.

"Becky? I'm sorry..."

"Sorry about what?"

Fuck off, dickshit. "Help you with something?" I asked a bit more politely to my stepfather.

He stood there obstinately, waiting for me to explain myself or else finish my business with Becky with him still standing there. But I did neither; I turned to face him and waited with my eyebrows up, waiting for him to say whatever he was going to say.

He had nothing more to add, so he took his shitty brown coffee and departed for other known systems. I don't break the peace in our house, but that doesn't mean I tolerate any shit from him when he feels like being a nosy bitch. Never have. Since he married my mother and moved in, he started making payments on the house, paying bills, buying groceries and shit, which meant he had a say on what went on under the roof, so I couldn't disrespect him to his face, no matter how much he deserved it.

I don't know what my mother ever saw in him, or sees in him still, but I made it more or less clear that he's to stay out of my business, seeing as I'm pretty much a tenant that just stays in my room whenever I'm home. Just because he knows I don't like him doesn't make it worth it for him to spend extra time getting his nose into my business.

Still, Becky said nothing. I tried the knock once more, and still nothing. Best go about my business and wait for her to be ready to talk.

***************8

"So?"

"So, what?"

"Fuck off with your 'so what'; tell us the goods."

"Excuse me, do you gentlemen mind waiting another hour for my lecture to be over?" the inept professor asked.

Do you people want a quick summation of the sequence of events, or should I just say I got on to class with my nosy mates?

"Yeah, was it good?" Bill asked over the interruption. Technically he wasn't in that class with me, but he and Dree saw fit to join Sam and myself to find out exactly what had happened the night before.

"She never came home last night," I said in my indoor voice.

That didn't quite shake them off, but at least they wouldn't find out that I had fallen asleep before I could find whether or not she was actually there or not.

Still, I thought that perhaps there was a ring of truth in my little white lie. What if she hadn't come home last night? What if she wasn't even there that morning? But what kind of sense would that make? Why would she go through all the trouble to... oh.

A set-up. Get me on the phone with all her friends nearby, get me to admit I had a crush on her, invite me into her bedroom that night; then have a good laugh about it, still with her friends; when I started asking in a very meek voice why I wasn't getting any of what I was pseudo-promised.

Women.

I felt like getting drunk again, so I led the charge back to Julie's before waiting for the pompous professor to finish his lecture Sam and I weren't paying attention to anyway. Jess was clearly flirting with me as she served me and the boys; but then, she flirted with all the guys at the bar. On the other hand, my boys and I are the only ones that don't tip on account of our parents pay. Or Sam's dad or Dree's mom, either way.

I tried to ignore the flirting as casual noise. I was too disgusted with women for the moment, but that only lasted for my fifth beer.

***********8

"Fucking hell, five times?" Jess asked with marked incredulity some five hours later.

"Comes with the territory, baby," I said in a rather unimpressed voice. I had always had an eye on her, but it only just occurred to her to have my way with her. Something about trying to heal the sickness by injecting my semen into it. Maybe I was reading a little too much into my human bio class.

Why the hell would my sister do that? I thought we were close. If not close, then at least amenable. Not far apart enough for her to run me through the ringer like that. If we really were close, then such a joke might have been a friendly precursor to something nice. Not necessarily sex-related, but something intimate.

When the hell was she going to get home?

"You want me to walk you back to the trolley?" I offered Jess after she recovered from my last plowing.

"Actually, is it cool here if I stay the night?"

"Uhh... I donno..." It's not like I've never had a girl overnight, but getting caught wasn't pretty. She'd have to wait until the old asshole left before she could even leave my bedroom safely.

"My parents aren't being too cool right now, but I'd understand if..."

"It's alright," I submitted. It wasn't my favorite plan, but a little morning gnocchi wasn't terrible. For a moment, I thought that being walked in on by my sister, who wondered why I had stood her up for the past two nights, only to find me in bed with another woman. Part of me didn't want to look like the asshole who would shut her down like that. The other part of me wanted her to get the idea out of her head that I was some pushover she could pull a fast one on.

I gave up the sappy side of myself long ago. Nearly fell for it with Becky, too.

If only I was sure which side of the field she was playing on.

**************

A week went by.

************8

The news that my sister was probably dead was too much to bear. I want so much to go to her, but she hasn't even been found yet. Only the tell-tale remnants of the car they were in and a long, long drop down. It would take a day to get recovery equipment down that cliff.

They would have sent an emergency helicopter, but with the sheer distance down a grade like that, there was no point. Even if they did, a helicopter wouldn't've been able to rip through a car crushed into a pancake from the fall.

I couldn't think properly. Everything I saw was mildewy fuzz. All I could hear was irritating buzzing. People that I passed by looked at me awkwardly as I stumbled down the street to my house from the trolley station.

The parents were home. I had to sneak upstairs to avoid them. They'd hear the news in their own time. All I wanted was to fall on my bed and die.

I started crying the moment my door shut behind me. I couldn't make it to the bed; I collapsed right there, bursting into tears. Everything we had been through, everything we were supposed to do together, it was all gone. Nothing but wasted memories.

Still, the human heart persists. I got up out my bed, threw open the window, and stared out into the sky. "I don't know who's listening," I said in my cracked voice with my dry tongue, but being that whoever I was trying to reach in my hysteria would mind, "but my sister can't be dead. Please, I don't want her to die. Please."

Forever passed. I think about two hours total. I wasn't done feeling sorry for myself, but I at least wanted to sprawl on the bed so I wouldn't be cramped on top of everything else.

"I never knew you cared."

I couldn't believe it, but my heart did when it jumped clear out my throat. There next to me, in my bed, was certainly a hot figure. She must've been been in there all night, listening to me cry at the window.

A few quick hands searched to find a naked body about the size of my sister, with hair about the same as my sister's.

"Is it really you?" Brilliant line, Derrick. Smooth as shit.

Lips pressed up against mine. Someone I've never kissed before, but my body knew to believe before I did: My sister was kissing me.

"Any more dumb questions?" she asked. No mistaking that sugary-sweet voice. Those supple, subtle curves my fingers recognized from the faintest touches of long ago.

"I'm so fucking glad to see you," I said with the biggest hug I could think of.

"Don't hug me, kiss me," she corrected. I was only too happy to oblige.

Her lips were the sweetest heaven I could ever imagine. Soft, delicate, warm, and moist. No lipstick getting between us. Soon, her even more moist tongue licked at my lips with such slow, gentle swipes a few times before she pulled just far back enough that I could still feel her breath on my lips.

"What do you want to do to me?" she whispered.

"I want you," I hissed, aiming for another kiss, but she pushed me away.

"Tell me."

"I'm gonna screw you into next Sunday," I said with growing passion, throwing an arm over her to clutch her to me. I was foolish, falling into the same trap she had lain before, only now the trap had sprung. I didn't care. Rather a fault of mine. I must be sick.

"Yeah?" she purred. I got a kiss for my claim. "You're gonna screw me?"

"That's right, baby," I whispered. I nuzzled into her sweaty neck and concentrated on my hands memorizing her body. "First, I'm gonna lick your pussy."

"Mmm... then what?"

"Then I'm gonna take you by the hair and pull you to your knees."

"What for?" she asked with an air of innocence.

"So you have to suck me off," I insisted. I reached between her legs at last to find a short triangle of damp fur. Her thighs were soaked as well.

"I'd love to do that to you," she whispered back to me. "I'd love for you to make me. Keep going."

"When I've had enough, you're gonna suck your own tits for me," something I had been dying to see her do since they started to grow in, "and then you're gonna play with yourself until you come."

She bit my neck to keep her deep breathing from turning into moaning. Her hands were clutching at my back and shoulders; I could feel her shaking. Hopefully to keep herself from jumping the gun. "Uh huh?"

"Then comes the time I screw you," I said with more confidence than I'd ever felt in my life.

"You're really gonna fuck me?"

"I'm not stopping until you come at least three times on my dick."

"Are you gonna use a condom?"

Now there was a funny question. Why was she asking me? Oh, of course.

"No chance, baby. You're going to feel nothing but me inside you."

"Where are you going to come?"

"Inside you, baby." I could see what faint light there was from the window reflecting in her eyes; she was looking right at me. "All of it." I couldn't believe what I was saying, but I couldn't lie to her. That's exactly what was going to happen, and I knew she needed to hear me say it.

"I always make guys pull out," she goaded, but she did so with her teeth clamped around my earlobe, sending shudders down my spine that she was tickling. "Even though they all wear condoms with me."

"I'm not going to," I returned. I gazed into her face as I said it; my eyes were used to the darkness such that I could make out the outline of her beautiful blues. She stared back at me, waiting. I kissed her hard.

"Is your cock big?" she asked excitedly.

"It's perfect for you," I said out of nowhere. "It was made for you."

"I can't wait."

"For what?"

"To suck on it. To feel it inside me. Are you really gonna come in me?"

"You bet."

"I've never had that done before. What's it like?"

"It's the best part. You're gonna love it."

"Is that what you did with that blond slut at that party?"

What? Is that a yellow light? No, I don't think so. She was excited. "Sure is."

"What the hell did you do to her to make her so fuckin' noisy?"

"I didn't have to do a damn thing; she just wanted me. Why were you so quiet?"

"I didn't want that guy."

"Do you want me?"

"Yes."

"Did you want me then? At the party?"

"...Yes."

"She invited you to stay."

"I never thought... would you really have...?"

"Do you want me to show you exactly how I make a woman scream in pleasure?"

"Fuck yeah."

I kissed her sweet lips; we were gonna have such an awesome time. "Go get dressed," I instructed, already falling into my new role.

"What for?" she asked innocently.

"So I can undress you properly."

"What should I wear?"

"Something... innocent."

I could almost hear her grin wickedly as she rolled on top of me. She kissed me hard on the lips, then once on the chest, and took off out of my bed and out of my room. I felt the ghosts of her fingers that trailed dangerously high on my thigh just as she stood up.

And I waited.

And waited.

And waited even more, beginning to get impatient. And then concerned.

What the hell was she doing? Playing with me again?

Wait, did she actually fake her own death?

What the hell is going on?

Nearly two hours later, there was a knock on my door. It opened straight after, and my sister slipped in. "Derrick? You still awake?" she whispered, and I breathed at last.

"Yeah, babe. Where've you been?"

She hobbled in to kneel at my bedside. She was dressed in her large, white shirt she had stolen from me a few years ago to wear to bed. I could only imagine what color panties she had stretched across her silky ass. "Lita had left a message. I think I may have fucked up."

"How?" The night was pretty much screwed for me; I no longer felt any mood from her. I sat up on the backboard and invited her to sit next to me.

"I guess you figured out I made up the thing where I was in a car crash?"

"The thought came to mind, but I was sure it was just a mistake."

"It sounded like a good idea at the time, and I didn't think anything bad would happen, but you know how Lita works at the police station?"

"No. Who's that?"

"She's a friend from high school. She made it look legit that I was in a crash, but no one else was supposed to know. It kinda leaked, so now she's got to cover it up, and I had to talk to some people. I think I may be in trouble."

"It was just a joke; they're not gonna throw you in jail," I said comfortingly, wrapping my arm around her.

"I'm sorry about tonight," she said sadly. "I'll let you fuck me later, alright? I'm just not in the mood anymore."

"It's fine. You don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I do. We just have to do it another night."

*****************

And another night came.

And another.

A third day, and a fourth.

"Beck? Anything wrong?" I asked her on the fifth day. Tuesday.

"No, why?"

"Umm... nothing."

"You?"

"Fine, just fine."

"Great. Love you, gotta run!"

***************8

"Why are you such a loser, D-rick?"

"Because he's a virgin."

"Fuck off, the both of you."

Another day, another round of beers. The boys were still convinced I was in line to be getting some from my own sister and thus officially joining the group, but they were likewise convinced I was doing something wrong to have not gotten any yet.

"You think she's gay?"

"She probably fell in love with some dude from out of town; that's why she was gone for a whole week."

"All goth chicks are gay."

"Would you idiots shut up?"

"Look, man," Bill said seriously, "you've got to make a move. You want to be stuck wishing the rest of your life?"

"Naw, dude. But what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

"Seduce her," Dree said sagely.

"Fuck you, and fuck you," Sam said helpfully to both Bill and Dree. "Now Derrick, my man, she wants you, but you're gonna have to play to your strengths if you wanna move this thing forward."

"Huh?"

"Your strengths, man. She came to you, right?"

"Yeah..."

"So, all you gotta do is be like however you were at that time. Remind her of what lit the fire under her sweet ass."

"Oh."

"I wasn't gonna do this, but otherwise you'd be hopeless."

I was ready to sock him one, but he pulled out a book.

"You know I can't read."

"It's a book about subversive suggestion. Study hard, and when you talk to her next, your words will be used to setting you both in the right direction. To bed, that is."

I socked him one anyways, but I took the book.

************

Fascinating, this book. I might have to give it a try.

***********

"Becky? Are you in there?"

I had mostly given up on expecting anything from my sister, what with her cooling off but not quite all the way down to her usual self. But with this book on my side, I thought there was hope at last.

She opened the door; she was wearing my old shirt again with neither striped socks nor long underwear to mar her beautiful legs or feet.

"You're beautiful," I said before she could greet me. As the book predicted, she blushed like an attention-craving schoolgirl. "May I come in?"

"Sure." She got out of my way so I could walk in. She shut the door behind her.

"Something on your mind?" she asked, as though it wasn't obvious enough. I was eyeing her body every which way I could, particularly those legs of hers.

"Been a while since we talked," I said softly.

"Busy, sorry," she apologized, though I could tell I was already getting to her. She was squirming where she stood, covering her crotch with her hands, and not knowing where to look. "What did you want to talk about?"

I closed the distance between us, so close that I could feel the heat from her black-tipped toes. She was forced to focus on me, on my eyes. Her adorable blue eyes looked up at me, causing her black hair to cascade over her delicate shoulders and reveal her tender, white neck.

I set my arms gently on her hips. "Kiss me," I demanded.

"Derrick, we can't just start doing shit right now," she said with some urgency. With other people in the house wide awake, she was right.

I chuckled confidently. "It's not what you think; you're just going to kiss me."

"Oh, alright." She stood up on those cute toes of hers, brought her adorable eyes closer to mine, and pecked me shortly with her incredible lips. "All better?"

"Come on, Becky," I mocked. "Just because we're not going to do anything doesn't mean you can't kiss me like we are going to."

"W... what do you mean?" she asked with some insecure uncertainty.

"I'll show you," I said, cupping her face so that we were sharing the same breath. "Here's my beautiful sister, her inch not a lips from mine."

"That's back-words," she giggled, but her breath was rapidly increasing.

"My sister that wants me to take her to bed; my sister that looks sexy, even when she's just wearing an old shirt of mine. She told me that she's going to make my dreams come true. I'm going to show her what a wise decision she's making in choosing me." I was running my fingers through her hair as I spoke to her. Switching between gazing into her eyes and looking at the rest of her perfect face.

"I just hope she knows what she's in for, coming to bed with me. I take a certain pride, taking care of a woman, and never have I wanted to prove myself to a woman so much as to this one. I'll devour her skin, make her moan, make her..."

She cut me off with her lips, leaping into my arms and knocking me back to her bed. Her tongue drilled its way into my mouth, demanding a dance with mine. Her body was dancing over my body as well. I could see down her shirt, all the way down to her little panties. Without both of them, I would wager her pussy would be dripping down onto my straining cock.

I pushed her to the side to kiss her more deeply, fantasizing about everything we would do together once we crossed that line. Like she said, tonight wasn't a safe night.

"Fuck me," she demanded, pulling her shirt up.

"Like you said, tonight's not a safe night."

"But Derrick...!"

"How do you feel right now?" I asked her with an intent gaze.

"Fucking hot, like my pussy is on fire, and I'm about to use it to set you on fire," she said hungrily.

"That's all? Your pussy?"

"My nipples, too. And my ears. And my nose. And my tongue. If we don't fuck, I'll break apart."

"I want you to remember this feeling," I said in a certain tone of voice with a certain stare into her face, both of which I'd learned from the book. "I want you to be able to feel this way whenever I'm around. I want you seeing me or hearing me to bring you close to insanity."

I kissed her several times between words, hardly believing my own luck or the passion she was feeling for me. "You'll want me," I said in my throaty tones and my hands hovering over the spots she wanted touched most. "You won't be able to control your desire for me." Her chest and hips were thrusting up to find my hands. I was having to control myself to set the pattern, or else I would risk screwing it up.

"I... can't... possibly... all... the... time..." She was slipping out of control fast. According to my reading, she'd fall unconscious from getting too hot. Still, she was at her most persuadable.

"You'll need to be at your most creative to keep me satisfied," I continued. "Outfits, dates, sneaking around behind Mom's back, flirting with me in public..." I stared straight into her eyes. "Finding other girls for me..."

She was gazing back at me, her eyelids nearly too heavy to see out of, but she still nodded vigorously in submission. "Yes, anything. Just touch me."

"Is that all you want?" I asked, continuing the torture.

"No, I want your big dick inside me."

"That's all?"

"I want your cum in me, too."

"I thought you didn't do that."

"I'm going to with you."

"Are you thinking about it?"

She bit her lip and nodded. Her legs spread, her hands slithering along her naked thighs, closer to her panties.

"How could I?"

"You have to," she insisted, almost hyperventilating from her arousal.

"But once I strip you naked..." She gasped, and a little moan slipped out. "...All I'll want to do is lick your sweet little pussy."

She nodded in agreement. "Mine's the best."

"Sweet?"

"The sweetest."

"You happen to know?"

She nodded again.

"So you've tasted other pussies?"

She n... no, she shook her head.

"You haven't?"

Again, she shook her head.

"Never been with a woman? Never kissed one?"

Nothing.

"It would please me if you did."

Her heavy eyes lit up.

"Do you want to please me?"

She nodded most vigorously.

"You would make love to a woman just for me?"

She was keeping her eyes open somehow, despite the overwhelming desire to pass out. Her nod was slow; her hand slid down my chest in affection.

"Even that little slut I was with at the party?"

"...Yes..."

"You'd do everything with her." It wasn't a question.

"Yes," she said more confidently.

"Were you jealous of her?"

"Yes," she insisted.

"Did you want her, too? At the time?"

"Yes."

"You're going to have her. And any other girl who I think is good enough for you."

"Thank you, Derrick." She was no longer begging for contact; she was simply gone. Only awake in that her eyes were open.

"Your body belongs to me, now."

"My body is yours," she affirmed.

"You will come when I tell you to."

"Yes, please."

"You will think first of my pleasure. Everything you do will be towards making me happy."

"Yes, Derrick."

"Tell me you love me."

"I love you."

"Now sleep."

****************

"What? Oh, hi, Derrick. I'm sorry about last night. Did I fall asleep or something?"

"I love you, Becky," I said instead. "Last night was amazing."

I kissed her firmly, inciting the old feelings from the night before. In no time, she was hot as a tea kettle.

"Tonight, yeah? I want you to fuck me tonight," she cooed. "Will you?"

"There's a big party coming up soon," I suggested. "Maybe we should do it there? Get in the mood, watching others? Does that sound good?"

"Oh Derrick, that'd be perfect. Will you do something for me?"

"Anything, baby."

"Will you lick my nipples for me?"

"Not now; not until it's time for me to claim your body," I said in my commanding tone of voice. She was taking it in stride, just like she was supposed to. "Now go take a shower so I can fantasize about you being naked. Afterwords, make me some breakfast and bring it to me here."

"Yes, Derrick," she affirmed lovingly.

************

So, the big party comes. Everybody gets dressed: Men in slacks and shiny shoes, women in spring dresses and high heels. It's like practice for the Senior Ball. The official rule is that if you're going, you can ask anyone you want, anyone in the world, and it's very impolite manners to refuse. Couples would still go together, but a lot of the guys from college would wind up taking high school girls instead of their own girlfriends.

Those girlfriends would, in turn take either a different guy or girl for their own date. It was a dance where you could invite the person you wanted to take, not the person you were supposed to take. No one dared throw it in your face the morning after because everyone was equally guilty for even being there.

It was still a dance, though. Actually, it was an actual event hosted by the Garden itself, held at Bombshell Manor, one of the biggest houses in town. It was famous for being the house of the two most famous cheerleaders in Cameron High history. Rumor has it the founder of the Garden was born there.

We stepped through the giant double-front doors to find the place was already bumping. The foyer was completely devoid of any furniture, and the carpet had been rolled up so no one tripped their heels or spilled their drinks. I secured a pair of champagne flutes and toasted the evening to my lovely companion.

"Hey, Der. Who's your date?" asked an old friend from high school.

"I'm Elizabeth," Becky said for herself, extending her hand. As expected, no one recognized her once she swapped her usual dark makeup for something in a more "barely there" motif with light, spring colors. She wore a simple dinner gown of soft blue-green and matching heels, and her hair was straightened to decorate her bare shoulders.

"I only hope you're sharing, that's all I can say," the guy said, kissing Becky's hand before disappearing into the party.

"You wanna go out onto the back lawn?" I asked her. The front lawn was covered with people as it was, but the back yard was huge. We had to go through the pool room to get there, and the pool was huge. And inside. Insane.

There was a live band playing out back, and couples were dancing the night away all over and everywhere between there and the front hall, and on the front lawn as well. Becky and I had already left our shoes with the custodian in the foyer, since between the padded room, the pool room, and the kitchen, there wasn't really proper surface for dress shoes, especially out in the grass. We joined hands and joined the crowd.

"Hey, man!" several people shouted upon recognizing me. Everyone wanted to know who my date was, but all they ever got out of either of us was "Elizabeth". Throughout high school, no one had ever known her real name.

"Hey, man," interrupted a party-goer. "You gonna hog her all night, or you gonna share?"

"I love you, Becky," I whispered down to her.

"I love you, Derrick," she whispered back up, and I kissed her. Then I handed her over.

I found myself some stone seating to cool my dogs.

"I saw that," Bill said next to me.

"How's your night going?"

"Fucking Sadie tossing her shit around again," he grumped.

"So tap that one more time."

"You kidding? She'd kill me if she even thought anyone knew; you saw what happened to Sam. Lucky for him Tiff were too dense to say what she was talking about at the time."

"Psh, yeah. You seen him around?"

"Yeah, he brought a few young things with him. You?"

"Just the one I came in with."

"Who is she?"

"That's Becky, stupid."

He snorted into his beer. "What? Her?"

"In the nubile flesh."

"Dude, you got to let me dance with her."

"Go for it. I'll go see what Sadie's doing."

"Deal."

Sadie was easy enough to find. Her dress looked like it was a halter like Becky's, but it was actually a string-tied top and separate sarong bottom, good for pool parties. Becky and I had also come prepared for swimming, but Sadie had already cast aside her halter top.

Or had she? The two guys she was dancing with probably couldn't resist the temptation of pulling the little strings to make her top fall away. One of them was kissing her neck and grinding into her from behind while the one in front was kissing her lips.

The song ended, and I stepped in. "Mind if I cut in?" I asked of them.

"My my, little Derrick," she mused when she saw me. She bid the other two away with a kiss each before sauntering up to me, breasts and hips swaying. "Does mommy know you're out?" Standard behavior for sisters of buddies. I was over it.

"Just one dance," I said, holding my hand out.

She smirked at me. For an eighteen-year-old, she handled herself better than people twice her age. Had them eating out of her hand. Speaking of hands, she took mine, which I kissed most graciously. I pulled her into my embrace, and we began to move with the music, albeit slowly.

Unlike her previous partners, my hands stayed put and my eyes stayed locked on hers. She was too headstrong to feel uncomfortable; in fact, I think she liked it. "So. Who're you here with?" she challenged.

"Her," I said, pointing to the black-haired girl that was quickly drawing a crowd with her bare feet boogying to the music. "You?"

"I forgot," she said whimsically. My face was devoid of reaction. "Although... it seems to me that right now, I'm here with you."

"I could get used to that."

"Mmm... me too."

We spent the whole song showing off what good dancers we were. That wasn't saying much; we were both more club dancers, but neither was any better, and we were rather enjoying ourselves. Probably more than with anyone else we'd ever danced with, being that since the two of us were locked behind the friend zone, there wasn't any pressure.

We both saw Sadie's brother Bill aiming for my sister Becky, but he never made it through the tight circle that had built up around her, making the two of us burst into laughter. When the song ended, we stuck together, and for a pleasant surprise, Becky came to find me.

"Who's this?" she asked when she saw me with Sadie practically in my lap.

"I'm Honey-Bee," Sadie answered.

"Cheerleader, huh?" Becky answered. The two shook hands, though it was more a warm holding designed to boil man's blood. "I'm Elizabeth."

"Really," Sadie purred. "Do you go to Cameron High?"

"Yeah." The music began again. "Come on."

Becky pulled Sadie away from me, leaving me to return for something more stimulating than champagne. There was Bill again.

"How'd it go?" I asked casually.

He fumed silently. "I saw you getting rather friendly with my sister," he noted rather than be subjected to my goading.

"Yeah. Now look who's getting friendly."

He peeped over to the vast collection of bodies. His sister was, as always, easy to find. She was locked at the hands with my sister still, both of them enjoying the music. "If you'll excuse me, I've got more work to do. Why don't you see if Sally's up and about? Seeing as it's 'Come On Whom You Usually Don't' night." Even your boy's sister wasn't off-limits tonight. Even your own sister.

I made my way through the thick crowd, rubbing my swelling manship against girl's asses every two seconds. Most of them would reach behind themselves without looking to get a feel for what was digging into their dresses. I found the two girls I was looking for, but I held back for a minute when the music changed to something slow. Without hesitating, Sadie threw her arms around my sister's shoulders to hold her close; Becky in turn wrapped her own arms around Sadie's waist, her hands resting on her bare back.

When the minute was up, I approached. Their eyes were closed during their silent spin, so I was able to sneak up behind Sadie undetected and unrecognized. She backed into me indiscriminately as I set my hands on my sister's hips. Becky opened her eyes then, and upon seeing me, kissed me over Sadie's shoulder.

We ground our hips together as though Sadie wasn't between us; Sadie herself freed her hands to clutch our heads while we kissed. My own hands slid from Becky's waist to Sadie's, right to the knot on her sarong, which I made quick work of. When the cloth fell to the grass, I couldn't help but spread her cheeks, clad only in a thin white thong, and rub my erection up and down her ill-disguised cleft.

She moaned and tilted her ass up to better receive me. "Oh, hey, Derrick," she said upon opening her eyes. She took over my kiss with my sister, leaving me free for getting into other trouble. Becky, as soon as Sadie's sarong fell away, slid her hands down Sadie's back to cup her bottom, and she felt my hardness upon the tanned ass. She was then the one to spread the girl's cheeks so I could push deeper between them.

My hands went back to Becky's hips, but they were soon down to her ass, and I pulled her tight against Sadie, and therefore Sadie's ass against my cock. Then I felt along Becky's bare back and then her neck. This was my first real feel of her naked skin despite my two nights in a bed with her. They had stopped kissing by then, preferring to focus on what they were doing to tease one-another with their hands.

They parted about half a foot so they could take in each other's bodies. Becky in her backless dress and no underwear, Sadie in nothing but underwear. Both were without their shoes. I took the opportunity to slide my hands to Becky's front and into the sides of her dress to feel her breasts for the first time.

They were heavy, feeling much bigger than I ever made them out to be. It was obvious Becky had hidden her treasures well throughout the years. My warm hands made bumps on her breasts, and her nipples turned into hard points under my palms.

I pulled my hands out and made for Sadie's waterproof bra; her breasts were obviously larger, and holding them with her back to me was much more comfortable. I decided to let my hands rest joined together at her waist, dipping dangerously down to her thong from the front.

As soon as my hands came away from Becky's breasts, Sadie took up interest and began to flick her pointing nipples with a fingertip. Becky moaned, urging Sadie to lean right over and bite one of my sister's nipples. With Sadie bent over, Becky and I had a moment. "I wanna fuck her," I saw her lips say quietly. I answered her by brushing her lips faintly with mine. Oh how glad I was to have made her wait.

She moaned then; I saw Sadie had slipped her hand down to rub Becky's pussy through her dress. She lifted her head back up, and Becky devoured her lips and clutched her breasts.

Sadie's hand stayed where it was. When Becky had her fill of our new toy's tits, she clutched my ass and pulled it tight, making my erection drill head first into Sadie from behind. With their bodies pressed close together again, my hands were out of sight to slip under Sadie's panties to feel her wet mound.

The song ended, and hands fell to sides. There were vultures circling, trying to get in on the action. But another song started up, and the two girls were circling around me. Becky ended in front of me with Sadie behind. They danced raunchy to the raunchy music, squeezing me between their thinly-clad bodies. Becky's back was to me so she could get a taste of what Sadie had been having; the rough material of her dress didn't feel quite so good as Sadie's near-bare ass, but knowing it was my sister craving my dick made it feel just fine.

Sadie's tits on my back felt just as good. Becky turned around to feel a bit of me from the front, and in the passion of feeling my cock grind against her pussy, she pulled at Sadie's head and kissed her over my shoulder. With a few more minutes gone by, the two circled around me again, landing in the opposite positions once they parked so we could go through the whole thing again. Despite everything I felt for Becky, feeling Sadie's obvious experience when she rubbed her thong-glad pussy over the bulge in my pants made me want her desperately.

The band closed up shop for the five minutes, which would give us time to rest. We'd probably seek other dance partners to make the most of the night.

"A couple of us are going to nab a room upstairs," I said to Sadie. Becky pulled herself under my arm after the music ended, leaving Sadie in her skivvies to stand alone. Not to ditch her, but to gawk at her body. "You think maybe you wanna join us?"

"Mmm... I donno. Are you gonna be there?" she asked of my sister.

Becky looked up at me, then again at Sadie's body. "Definitely."

"Then I'll be there. I think I should catch a swim, unless you wanna help me find my clothes?"

"You enjoy yourself."

"Come find me when you head up, yeah?"

"Wouldn't miss it," Becky answered.

We both watched her leave. With most of the couples outside swarming the bar, the two discarded pieces of Sadie's dress were easy to find. She walked casually past them both.

"You feel like hanging out on the pool deck?" I asked my sister while watching the younger girl's ass sway.

"Yeah."

We both lazed in chaises at poolside, sipping sangria and watching the sharks chasing the dolphins. Some were in swimming suits like Sadie, others had grabbed undershorts and undershirts from boys to bathe in. A few girls had hiked up their dresses to let their bare legs dangle in the water while they socialized with the swimmers and the loungers.

There were a few highlights to be seen there. Since half the senior class of Cameron High seemed to have shown up, there was plenty to see. The girl's and boy's swim and water polo teams (usually the same people) were there, making the most noise. Several cheerleaders like Sadie were there; they were easy to spot, usually having the most extreme waist-to-hip ratio and or the largest breasts.

The swim-team girls, liberal in the private party, had donned the tiniest swimsuits ever. Not even the slutty cheerleaders could keep up with the experienced dressing of the swimmers nor the true submerged form of flirtation. The boys were mostly in swim trunks except for those that actually swam for the school.

There were repeated girly catcalls for the boys in their small red spandex suits, more so than for the girls, at least as far as their outfits were concerned. The real cheering began after the wrestling got under way.

The captain of the cheerleading squad had gotten into a scuffle with the girl's water polo captain. The two girls were flopping about in the shallow end, going for one-another's tops. It went on just long enough to start getting some attention before the cheerleader's string bikini was easily untied, leaving her topless and her opponent grinning.

She fumed at the other girl, grabbed her by her short brown hair, and kissed her hard. While she had her distracted, she slid her fingers under the tight spandex of the near-non-existent top and pulled it over her head so that their breasts could mesh.

Becky and I decided we'd had enough, but only after the two girls slipped out of the water, topless, and disappeared, leaving their boyfriends behind. We found Sadie and chucked ice cubes at her until we got her attention.

As the three of us left the pool deck together, we were cut off by Sadie's brother.

"Dude," Bill said, seeing my sister on my left and his sister on my right, the two girls' hands laced together behind me.

"Yup?"

He pulled me aside, leaving the girls to giggle together.

"That's my sister, yo."

"And?"

"...It's my sister. She's not like the rest. More important, I still gotta live with her."

"Dude, it's totally cool. I probly wasn't even gonna do anything with her, but now you mention it..."

"Hey, guys!" I shouted at our sisters. They came padding over, hand in hand.

"Elizabeth," I said to Becky, "meet Bill. I have but three close friends, and he's one of them. He's also too lazy to hunt his own scratch, and you two ladies together would probably kill me."

Becky grinned wickedly as Bill took her hand. Even he didn't recognize her in her beautiful dress.

"Hey, Honey-Butt," Bill said to his sister.

"You too, Prick-Dick," she answered.

"That's not what you said last month," he said coolly.

"I was too drunk to speak properly, dimpshint."

Their banter brought us to the foot of the grand staircase in the front hall. We had recovered our shoes; we men wore shoes that worked well enough without socks. "Sockless Parties," these gatherings were called on account of the pool. A low-class name for an other-wise dignified orgy in disguise. As we made our way up the stairs, we saw Sampson just disappearing into a room.

"Hey, mes amigos!" he shouted down just in time. "Come on up; I got a free room!"

The four of us hustled upstairs. "So, who'd old Sam find to entertain, or was he planning on jerking off in private?" Bill started when we got inside, but... Hello, beautiful. Didn't expect to see you in here."

There was Salamandy. Son of a bitch. We all thought she hated her brother, but she had gone upstairs with him, just the two of them.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" she said when she saw Bill and I come in with our two sisters. "Honey, isn't that your brother?"

"No," she said, looking at me.

"Not him, the other one."

"Oh, him? Yeah. Isn't that your brother?" Sadie returned, notating Sam.

"I guess it is. Were you gonna...?"

"Why? Weren't you?"

"Figured I'd give it a try; it's a party, after all. You?"

"One more time couldn't hurt."

"What's with the little princess?" Sally then asked after Becky, who was beaming in her dress and heels. Sally herself wore a simple black bellyless tube top and a long, black skirt with no slit.

"That's Elizabeth," Sadie said. "D-boy's date."

"What in fuck?" Sam laughed. "Sisters only, dude. Didn't you hear?"

"Actually," Becky said, turning to look at me, "I am his sister." She kissed me on the spot, making everyone's jaws drop.

"Well, are we gonna do this, or stand around staring?" Sally asked, unzipping her skirt.

"Let's have the boys volunteer to get us some drinks while we get to know each other," suggested Sadie, who took my sister from me and went to help Sally with her dress. A look and an eyebrow from both girls let the three of us know we had better get the fuck out of there pretty quick.

"Women," Sam muttered on our way down the stairs.

At the bar, we ran into Dree.

"Bad luck, mate?" Bill asked.

"All three of them are gone," he pouted.

"Come on, let's get you laid. We're doing a special. Group discount."

When we collected what we needed, half-carrying Dree in tow, we slipped back upstairs and into the bedroom. Our three girls were in a pile on the huge bed, none of them with a stitch of clothes on, though they were still all wearing their heels. My eyebrow started to twitch.

"Poor Dree's sisters bugged out on him," Sam mocked. He shoved the dejected lad towards the bed, and immediately the three girls crowded him with affection.

"You just wait right there, pretty boy," Sally said with cheer. "No cousin of mine is going to be left wanting." She pulled on the nearest clothes item she could find, which happened to be my sister's dress. Her breasts tried to bulge out the sides, but it was loose around the hips. In all, I thought she looked ravishing in it. Next to her, my naked sister gave me a little wave.

Sally was gone and back in seconds. "May I introduce Cindy," she pulled in a beautiful blond wearing a square-lined green dress, "and Sara?" What was left of our jaws hit the floor. Sara had white silk criss-crossing her breasts, a little out of character for the simple dance, but no one was about to complain. Me, least of all.

"They're not his sisters, either," Sam jeered.

"They're mine," Sally interjected, "and they're his cousins, too, since his sisters went and dumped him."

Enough chatter. I got up to introduce myself to the twins, one of whom grabbed me and kissed me. The two of us never made it to the bed. Sally and Cindy did, but they made short work of Dree between the two of them. My dear sister seemed happy with Bill for the moment, and Sam was left with Sadie.

"I thought you didn't partake," I said to Sara after making her come on my cock for the fifth time. She was dry and she wasn't a moaner, but that didn't mean she wasn't any good. Hell, she was very good. Color me surprised.

"Just because I don't get drunk at parties and do it with whomever like some people," she jabbed, but I honestly don't know at whom. Every one of us was guilty except her twin sister, who was getting a taste of Dree's talents while Sally urged him on.

Bill finished with my sister, who moved on to Sam. Sadie didn't want to share, so she came to me, kicking Sara away. "Call me," Sara said on her way out.

We went a few rounds; we had plenty of time. We all watched Sadie with Bill, which was every bit the riot we expected. Sadie, being Sadie, hates not having everyone's attention. Sally seemed to own the room that night, which gave Sadie something to reach for, and she reached for it by bouncing on top of her brother like a madwoman.

Sally gave Sam a turn, but just once, and the twins wouldn't touch him at all, also being his sisters. Everyone wanted to see me and Becky take a turn, but I shoved her at Sadie, since I'd had a hankering for the sight all night. Once they were done, Becky laid down on the floor with me. Everyone else stopped what they were doing to watch.

"Another day, okay?" she whispered to me. "I'm not gonna make you my third or fourth for a night; I want it to be special. Is that alright?"

"Sure, baby," I whispered back. Then to our audience, I gave a little shake of my head. They all sighed their sorrow, but they were distracted with trying to get the three sisters together. It didn't work, but Sara and Cindy made a sandwich out of Sadie, and Sally let Bill and Dree both take care of her at once. I was about done for the night, but Becky, being gracious, went to give Sam more service since she was half the population that would give him any access that night.