All I Need Pt. 01 free porn video

Part One.

I dragged the thin brush handle jaggedly across the canvas, leaving behind a rough gash of red on the black background. I then went to work on elaborately highlighting the areas of red that I wanted to appear more strongly and blending the ones I wanted to fade. The song pounding in my headphones helping elicit the image I was working on from my mind's eye. Some of the lyrics stuck in my head on a loop, even though the song kept going.

"You cry out in your sleep

All my failings exposed

And there's a taste in my mouth

As desperation takes hold "

This happened sometimes when I was painting, and focusing on snippets of lines that resonated with me just added to the mood I hoped to convey. I had no lofty illusions about the paintings I created. I wasn't pretentious about it and didn't try to convince people there was some deep meaning associated with them about the evils of society or any of that other shit that the local art community tried to tack onto each others' work. The artwork I produced was primarily abstract images. Collections of textures, swirls, and shadows that I hoped, at best, made someone have some sort of emotional response to. At worst, I hoped that they would think they were somewhat interesting. If they got something else from it than what I had tried to convey, then so be it. It didn't matter to me at all. I created art simply because I enjoyed it and I always had from the time I was a c***d. It was somewhat cathartic for me, and I was at my most productive with it when some heartbreak or tension entered my life. I didn't care much about making money with it and I wasn't foolish enough to believe that I was going to make a living as an artist.

I was 20 years old, midway through my second year of college when I dropped out for the semester in complete frustration with the art program. Unsure what else to do with my life for the moment, I was dividing my time between painting on my own and working at a local mom and pop music store that was barely hanging on. The recent popularity surge of vinyl sales were proving to be it's saving grace. I planned to return to college in the Fall, but was unsure if I would continue with the visual arts program or settle into something infinitely more boring.

I switched brushes and continued blending crimson orbs out of the black background, applying layer after layer of red on the canvas. It usually took multiple layers, but the finished effect really did look like the image was rising from the depths of the background. An unexpected hand on my shoulder broke my concentration and startled me so much that I almost dropped the plate I was using as a pallet.

"Dinner's ready, jackass." My sister smirked down at me where I was crouched, her dark hair falling down past her shoulders.

"Christ, Amy." I pulled the earbuds from my ears. "You scared the shit out of me."

"That explains the smell in here." She replied, looking pleased with herself.

"I'll be down in a few minutes, just need to clean this up real quick." I rolled my eyes at her quip and began rinsing off the brushes I'd used.

She turned and walked to the doorway. I instinctively glanced up at her ass as she walked away. In my mind, I fell to my knees and praised the heavens every day for whoever invented yoga pants. Even though her shirt was long enough to cover most of her shapely butt, I could see the lower half of it peek out with every step. I wasn't one to ogle every female form that moved, but an incredible ass was an incredible ass. My sister had one, and I suspected she knew it. I was always aware that she was my sister and felt appropriately guilty for even noticing. I knew I shouldn't have. But this was purely that male instinct, whatever old remnants of our lizard brains that just would not let us not notice a great ass. I stared longer than I intended to, as I reflected on my lizard brain, and suddenly realized the ass had left the room. I was staring at an empty doorway. Chastising myself, I shook my head.

I went to the bathroom and washed up, making sure I didn't get paint all over the dining room table. My mother didn't have a sense of humor about those sorts of things. I looked in the mirror and realized how tired I looked. I stood around 5'9" with short, dark brown hair that was nearly black, light brown eyes, and a slender build. I wasn't athletic in the traditional sense, but years of skateboarding had kept me in reasonably good shape. It had also left me with a variety of small scars from falls and a bad knee that was occasionally starting to give me trouble. I sighed and headed downstairs for dinner.

Mom handed me a plate of food and I settled in at the dining table to eat. Amy sat across from me, tinkering with her phone as she chewed. I could only assume she was texting with her dickhead boyfriend, Jeff. I had known about Jeff by reputation around campus and he struck me as a shady asshole, hence me calling him a dickhead. But, to be fair, he had been alright to my sister in the month or so they'd been going out. That didn't mean I had to like him, but what she did was her business. My dad ate in the living room in front of the TV, watching a football game. I briefly pondered why I'd been born without whatever gene it was that made sports interesting to people. Unless you considered skateboarding to be a sport, I never had any use for them, myself. I wondered sometimes if my father would have taken more interest in my life if I were a sports nut like himself, but it didn't particularly bother me that he didn't by the time I had reached high school. He showered attention on my sister whenever she had any kind of school activity going on, which made it painfully obvious who was the favored c***d.

A few minutes into the meal, my phone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Megan. "Hey, here's that album you asked about." The messaged was accompanied by a link. I smiled and clicked the link to download it.

"Thanks, Meg. I really appreciate it." I sent back.

A few moments passed. "How much did you appreciate it?"

I looked at the text and smiled again. I knew this game well. "Enough to remember it next time I see you."

Amy noticed me smiling at my phone and rolled her eyes a bit, trying to get a rise out of me. I ignored her bait. I think sisters sometimes just feel a need to start shit. Hell, I suppose brothers do, too. I'd certainly started my fair share with her. I looked back down at my phone as it vibrated again.

"Good, that's what I wanted to hear."

Then came another text. "Laura's gone home for the weekend. I really don't want to be alone tonight. Is that okay? Can you come by later?"

I thought about it a moment, picturing Megan's naked body against mine. I didn't have anything going on tonight, and it had been a couple of weeks since I'd last slept with her. Meg was a short, slender girl with smallish breasts, a decent ass, and a pixie haircut. Her hair color seemed to change every other week, it's natural color being something of a mystery to me although probably a mouse brown if I were to guess based on the color of her bush. She was cute, but she was one of the more emotionally draining people to be around that I had met in a long while. She was a photography major at the university and hung out around all the pretentious art snob types that grated on every nerve that I possessed. Still, when presented with the option of getting laid or not getting laid, the choice seemed pretty obvious.

"Sure, that's fine. I'll be by there as soon as I can break free of this place."

"Cool. See you in a bit."

After dinner, I took a quick shower, grabbed my backpack and drove to Megan's.

* * *

Megan opened the door and hugged me on the spot. Her hair was a deep shade of red tonight. It contrasted heavily against her pale, almost to the point of translucent, skin. She was wearing a long silk bathrobe with a floral print that she'd found in a Goodwill somewhere. It clung to her slim body as she moved, accentuating the fact that it was very likely all that she had on. I could see the outlines of her nipple rings clearly on the fabric.

"Hi, Adam," she sighed with her arms around my neck. "I've missed you."

"Good to see you, Meg." I replied as I dropped my bag by the door and shut the door with my foot.

Meg smiled into my shoulder as she pulled me back toward the bedroom. "It feels like forever that I've been waiting for you."

As soon as we got to her room, the robe hit the floor and I discovered that I was correct. She was naked beneath it. Although I'd seen her naked many times, I still had to pause and smile every time, taking in her soft curves and admiring how some of her tattoos fit to the contours of her shape. She glanced up at me shyly for a moment, then hugged me. The whole room smelled of sandalwood as she'd clearly been burning the stuff again.

"You can melt hearts with that look, you know." She muttered as she began planting kisses on my collarbone. I picked her up, while her arms were still wrapped around my neck and set her on the bed. She chuckled as I paused to kick my shoes off, before climbing in to join her.

"Did you miss me, Adam?" She asked, "It's been a while."

"Of course I did," I replied as I began kissing her stomach, torn on which direction to I wanted to head. Ultimately, I went up and kissed my way up between her breasts to her neck.

She ran her hands down my sides, clutching at me, finally grabbing my faded Aphex Twin shirt and yanking it over my head. One hand wrapped around my rib cage while the other slid down and rubbed my rapidly hardening cock through the fabric my pants. I felt her lips on my throat again, as she licked her way up my chin and sucked seductively on my bottom lip. She drew her knees up and parted them, pulling me toward her.

I broke our embrace long enough to pull off my pants and climb back in the bed. She rolled me on my back and I pushed myself up toward the headrest. Megan lowered her head to my cock and kissed it. Taking it in her hand, she licked my shaft in one continuous motion all the way to the tip before taking me in her mouth. I involuntarily took a sharp breath, my pulse quickening. She bobbed her head up and down a few times, swirling her tongue around the head before she moved to kissing my stomach. I had my hand upturned, dragging my fingertips down her body as she climbed me. She kissed her way up my chest to my throat, her breath becoming more harsh and raspy as she went.

When she straddled my hips, I slid my hand across her thigh and cupped her trimmed bush in my palm. She took a sharp intake of breath, and pushed herself against my hand as my fingers traced the outline of her sex with my fingertips. Her head settled against my neck, exhaling rapidly in my ear. After a few moments, she swatted my hand away and laid down beside me.

"Hurry up," she moaned as she tossed me a condom. I unwrapped it and put it on quickly. She moved to straddle me and positioned me over her entrance. We both gasped as I entered her. She rocked herself up and down on my dick, gasps increasing in tempo and volume. Her back arched away from me as she placed her arms on the wall above my head. I cupped her ass in my hands as I thrust into her, feeling her warmth envelope me. She moaned aloud as I hooked my the tip of my tongue through one of her nipple rings and tugged lightly.

Even through the obnoxious filter of the condom, I could feel the sense of urgency in Megan's movements. It had been a couple of weeks since I'd last come over, after all, and apparently she was horny as hell. Maybe some of her other toys had been busy lately as well. I felt the tingling sensation that warned me I was getting close and I was about to change positions in a potential bid to last longer when I heard the urgent moans in Megan's voice telling me that she was getting the same memo.

As her orgasm overtook her, she gripped me tightly with her legs and I could feel her thighs quivering against mine from the strain. That was all it took and I launched round after round of sperm in vain against the wall of the condom. She collapsed into me, as we both struggled to catch our breath.

"Thank you," she mumbled into my chest.

* * *

We were lying naked on her bed. I was propped up against her headboard and she laid on her back across me with her head resting on my stomach. Her dark red hair damp with sweat, tiny smears of hair dye marked the edge of her hairline. She lazily smoked a cigarette, tapping the ashes into the tray she had resting on her hip. I found myself looking at the series of scars along her forearms, some more raised than others. All of them old and long healed. And self inflicted. She tried to keep them hidden under a variety of bracelets that she had adorning both arms. She had similar scars on her upper thighs that I sometimes kissed, which usually produced a positive response from her. Her scars brought about a sense of melancholy in me sometimes, but I was glad she was in a better place now than when she had created them. If she noticed me looking at them, she said nothing.

"You know there's a show coming up in a few months?" She asked me, as she stared at the ceiling.

"I heard about it. Another one of those local artist showcase things. You gonna be in it?"

"Yeah. You could get in on it if you wanted. I have the curator's number here." She glanced up at me and smiled.

"I don't know. I'm not sure I could handle having to be around all that. I can't stand those kinds of things. You know that." I had my hand resting on her shoulder, but let it slide down her chest and started absently playing with the captive bead on her nipple ring. She had small breasts that were nice and inviting. I was fond of teasing her nipple rings with my tongue and never seemed to tire of watching her nipples harden under my touch.

"I know you don't. But it could be a good way for more people to see your stuff. And it's a group show. You'd only have four or five pieces in it. I think they are only allowing for 8 feet per artist." She offered the cigarette to me, but I waved it away. She knew I didn't smoke, but offered all the time anyway. I had long suspected it was because she forgot which of the guys she had visiting were smokers, but I never spoiled the mood by pointing that out. I knew I wasn't the only guy she was sleeping with, but it wasn't like we had a future together. Tonight, she was with me. That was all either of us were asking from the situation.

"I'll think about it." I conceded. I knew she had a point about the exposure, but I didn't like being around large groups of people. Especially when those large groups of people would surely be pretentious douche bags. I traced my fingers along the long, swirling vine tattoo that climbed up her rib cage, making her wiggle away, giggling.

"Hey fucker!" she laughed "That tickles."

"You like it when I do that with my tongue." I grinned at her.

"Yeah, I do. So why are you doing it wrong?" She shot me a look of fake annoyance.

"I didn't know if you were interested in more than one round tonight."

"If you didn't know how to use that thing I might not be." She thumbed in the direction of my cock and licked her lips while lowering her eyelids at me. "But that's never been an issue for you."

"And here I thought you were just afraid to hang out at the apartment by yourself," I chuckled.

"When Laura told me she was going to see her family this weekend, your dick was the first thing I thought of." She rolled over and looked at my prick, letting her warm breath wash over it, breathing life back into it. "The rest of you was secondary."

I was taking a sip of my beer when she said that and nearly started choking with laughter.

* * *

A few nights later, I went to see a movie with some friends and we stopped at a bar on the way home. It was well past midnight when I finally got home. I let myself in the house and walked quietly to the kitchen and grabbed a bottled water from the fridge. On my way to the stairs, I noticed the TV on in the living room and went to see who was up.

Amy lay sleeping on the sofa in front of the TV. She was wearing boxer shorts and one of my Einsturzende Neubauten shirts. That little asshole, I thought, I'd been looking everywhere for that shirt. Her head lay in the crook of her arm, while her other hand lay on the sofa by her face, palm down. The shirt collar was stretched out and extended almost to her shoulder. Some of her long dark hair fell across her peaceful face. I couldn't explain why, but something about the way the light fell across her face and the way that she was laying really struck a chord with me. I felt an inspiration that very rarely ever struck me.

I quietly sat in a recliner across from her and slipped a sketchbook from my bag. I flipped it to a blank page as silently as I could and started sketching. The lines came easily to me, which was unusual. I always had a terrible time with drawing anything realistic. My obsession with drawing the little details had always worked against me and I wound up overworking the images until they were just a mess. I sketched the rough outline of her face as lightly as I could. Then I focused on her small hand, drawing out and shading her long, delicate fingers. There were so many inviting shadows to work on in the dimness of the room. I stared quietly at my sleeping sister across from me, taking in the shapes and angles of lines that made up her form. The curve of her shoulder as it turned into her neck, the dip of her neck just before it connected to her jaw. Her high cheekbones and her small ears with their delicate earlobes. The line of darkness where her soft, full lips met each other. Her eyes danced a little behind her closed eyelids, so I assumed she was dreaming. I worked on the drawing for several hours without even remembering I had the bottle of water next to me. Being thirsty was no longer even a factor in my mind.

When I was finally finished with it, I sat back in the chair staring at the drawing. Holy shit, I thought to myself. It was the best thing I had ever done. Without question. It looked so much like her that I felt like it had been drawn by someone else. I looked from the drawing to her and back at the drawing. Feeling absolutely elated with how well it had come out, I quietly closed the sketchbook, collected my bag and went to go upstairs. I paused next to her and very gently pulled the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She nuzzled her face into the crook of her arm again, never really waking up. I realized that night how truly beautiful she really was. I went upstairs wondering why I had never noticed that about her before, and wondering why I noticed now. As I fell face first on the bed in exhaustion, I realized that the sun was starting to peek in through the window.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, I found myself thinking about Amy more and more often. I was pretty torn about it. I mean, we had always cared about each other, even though we didn't spend much time together anymore. But what I was feeling seemed like it was different. I noticed her shape a lot more, and the graceful way that she moved through the house, how her hips swayed when she walked. She was truly a stunning creature. Her long wavy black hair hung past her shoulders and when she had it down, it framed her face beautifully. She had piercing blue eyes, while mine were more of a light brown. She had a high cheekbones and full lips, as well as the most graceful neck I thought I may have ever seen. I found her neck incredibly sexy and couldn't quite explain why. Something about the curve of it. She had a slim, athletic build with average sized breasts that perfectly fit her frame and a beautiful, round ass. I admired her beauty from afar, as stealthily as I could.
I continuously told myself that I was admiring her form from an artist perspective and that it was a natural, understandable attraction. She had, after all, been the muse for the greatest drawing I had ever put to paper. But I also kept thinking I was wrong for finding her sexy. Especially when I found myself contemplating her neck, breasts, thighs, hell... any part of her really. She had started creeping into my fantasies when I would masturbate, which disturbed me a good deal if I allowed myself to think about it. I felt like I should not be allowing myself to indulge these kinds of thoughts. She was my sister, for Christ's sake. But she would continue to sneak into them, regardless of our relation.

I once found myself in her bedroom, when no one was home. I stood in the doorway and smelled the air, which smelled faintly of her. I could catch hints of the perfume that she preferred, one of those pleasantly mild ones that claimed to smell like rain. I walked over to her bed and smelled her pillow, which gave me a stronger sense of the perfume as well as her natural smell. I felt a twitch in my cock as I took a second and third deep inhale of it. That snapped me back to reality enough to exit the room, pondering what the hell my problem was.

Late one Saturday night after work, I was upstairs in my room painting. Amy was out with some friends and our parents were off on some couples retreat. Taking advantage of having the house to myself, I had the stereo blasting an old Cure album loud enough to shake the room. This pleased me a good deal, and I would normally have been making serious progress with the canvas, but it just wasn't coming together tonight. I stared at the gray and blue images in annoyance for a few minutes, trying to figure out how to coax what I wanted from it. It just wasn't happening. I tossed my brush at the water glass in frustration and cursed to myself. Crouching to the ground, I snatched up a tube of black paint and rocked on my heels, glaring at the canvas. I had been wrestling with this same idea for a week now, and restarted multiple times. It was starting to outright piss me off.

"Fuck it." I muttered and squirted a big line of the black paint on the canvas. I grabbed a three inch brush and went to work blacking out the whole thing. I was still blacking out the canvas when the album finished playing and I kept painting in silence for a while when I heard a knock at my doorway.

Slightly startled, I glanced over my shoulder to see Amy in a green blouse and black skirt, leaning against the doorway, holding herself in tears. I dropped my brush on the drop cloth and scurried over to her.

"What's wrong, Amanda?!" I hadn't called her by her proper name in years, and had no idea why I did now.

She hugged me tightly around the waist, and I hugged her back, forgetting I had paint all over my forearms. Jesus, she smelled good. What a time to have that thought. Flashing back briefly on my visit to her bedroom, I was mildly angry with myself.

"That fucking asshole! He slept with Katie!" she cried into my shoulder. "How could he do that?"

"Jeff?" I asked, knowing it was a stupid question as soon as it escaped my lips. She nodded as she continued bawling into my shirt. I felt the dampness of her tears on my chest and was filled with rage. It was crushing me to see her hurting. "Goddamn it, that asshole."

"I just can't believe he did that." she sobbed. "And that whore had pictures of it. She showed them to everyone."

"I'm so sorry, Amy." I kept holding her, wanting to make it better somehow. "It'll be okay."

"I don't see how," she sniffled. "I'm through with him."

"I should fucking hope so!"

I happened to glance down at her blouse and saw black paint smudges all over the back and sides of it, matching my hands.

"Oh shit, Amy! I fucked up your shirt, I'm sorry!" I exclaimed.

She looked down at her shirt, turning it around on her small frame and started chuckling through her tears. "I don't care. It doesn't matter."

There was a pause before she sniffed and hugged me again. "I'm gonna go change. But can I.. would it be okay for me to come back after?"

"Sure, sis. That's fine." I thought a second, then added. "It's gonna smell bad in here for a bit, though. Just warning you. I'm about to use the paint thinner."

"I don't mind." she sadly smiled before she turned and walked out of the room.

I turned on the big fan I kept in the corner and opened the window before breaking out the paint thinner. Working as fast as I could, I cleaned up the brushes and cleaned my hands. I used as little paint thinner as I could and capped the bottle immediately, trying to keep the fumes to a minimum. I had finished cleaning and was coming back from scrubbing my hands with soap trying to kill the smell when she returned. She was clad in my Einsturzende Neubauten shirt and a pair of boxers. Her eyes were still rimmed with tears, but she'd cleaned up her mascara and looked less like an angry raccoon now. Seeing her in the shirt reminded me of the night I'd drawn her sleeping portrait. I felt a strange tightening in my chest at the memory, but shrugged it away.

She tossed the green blouse at me as she flopped on my bed. "You're right, that one's ruined. Use it for a paint rag or something."

"Sorry about that," I genuinely felt guilty.

"I don't care, really. It's not a big deal." She laid back on my bed and put her head on my pillow. The way my t-shirt lay against her, hugging her frame and the way her long, slender legs poked out from beneath it.. it was sexy. She was sexy. And seemed effortless about it. "What are you staring at?"

"What?" I asked, snapping back into focus.

"What are you staring at?" she repeated, glancing down at herself.

"That's my shirt, thief." I replied, feeling like an asshole for ogling her. Even more so for having been caught.

She laughed a little, and said "Oh yeah, it's comfy."

Amy kept staring down at the primitive figure on the front of the shirt for a few more moments, and suddenly trembled a bit. "Adam?"

"Yeah?"

"If you've got that paint off.. I could really use another hug." Tears started up again.

I sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a big, long hug as she cried into my shoulder. I wasn't a violent guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I was really starting to think that a few minutes alone with Jeff and a brick would truly help me feel better about the world.

She clung to me for a few minutes, until she seemed to get it out of her system. She moved from sobbing to just sniffling. I kept quietly reassuring her, until I eventually just shut up and held her. After a while, she released her death grip on me. Her eyes fell on the canvas I had been working on.

"So.." she cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes with the back of a hand, "what's with the painting?"

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"Why are you painting over it?" She motioned to the mostly blacked out rectangle.

"It wasn't working out like I hoped. I've been fighting with it for a while and finally decided to scrap it." I glanced back at the thing, remembering my irritation with it.

"That's a shame." she said, "it's kind of nice."

"Ah... the true measure of successful art. When your sister looks at your efforts and deems it 'kind of nice'" I laughed.

"Shut up, jackass." she joined me in laughing. "You know what I meant."

She stood and started flipping through a stack of canvasses I had leaning against a wall. As she went through them she started giving her opinions about different ones. I was kind of surprised, because she'd never shown much interest in my stuff, and she made some good observations. But I didn't say anything because I was glad to see her distracted from dickhead. We chatted for several hours about artwork, music, films, her upcoming trip to Rome, pretty much anything except what had her upset to begin with. Several times her voice would crack and her eyes would well up, but I would swiftly move to distract her with something else. It worked most of the time. I was surprised to discover she wasn't as vapid as I'd always assumed my little sister had become when we were in high school. While I'd gotten heavily into music and skateboarding, Amy had become a cheerleader and been involved in all sorts of student activities. We'd just grown apart and I came to perceive her as a stereotype. What an asshole I was, I thought with a small smile.

There eventually came a point where I was midway through a speech about my fondness for Ichikawa's Fires On The Plain when I realized she had fallen asleep. Which, admittedly, was pretty much what I expected to happen when I started rambling about black and white Japanese films to anyone. I was well aware that I was far too much of a film nerd for my own good sometimes. But she had fallen asleep in my bed, damn it. I sighed, turned off the bedroom light and slumped in my office chair, resigned to sleeping at my desk for the night. But I slumped perhaps a little louder than I planned.

"What are you doing?" she groggily asked from the bed.

"Go back to sleep" I replied quietly, "it's fine."

"Bullshit." she mumbled nearly face down on the bed, "come to bed."

"I'm fine, don't sweat it." I put my head down in my folded arms on the desk.

"Don't be ridiculous." she patted the bed.

I didn't know how I felt about this, given my recent fixation on her. But I crawled into bed anyway, to avoid making an argument of it. She gave me a brief, lazy hug and I could feel her bra-less chest press against mine for only a moment. There was a twitch in my pants that I did my level best to ignore. "We used to share a bed all the time when we were little, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. But that's been like ten years." I replied as I yawned and folded my hands behind my head. She had been quite a bit less shapely in those days, and I had been a lot less aware of my own fondness for the opposite sex. Despite my wariness, we were both asleep within minutes.

In my dream, I was spooning Amy. Her perfect ass pushed up against my groin, my erection rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. I lazily ran my hand along her side and slid it across her ribs in a hug. She puts her hand over mine, holding it between her breasts as she grinds her butt back against me. I can feel her breasts on either side of my wrist, even through the shirt material they are warm and soft. My god, her hair smells amazing. She moans a little as my cock glides along her crack, and I feel like I may blow my load on the spot. I move to slide my hand down her body again, but she holds my hand in place. My fingers slip free and the motion causes me to snap my eyes open.

The fuck are you doing?! my brain screams as I wake up to realize I'm actually spooned up against her in the bed. I fought not to launch from the bed like a rocket, resulting in simply a startled jerk as I moved my pelvis away from hers as swiftly as I could.

"What was that about?" she asks, looking over her shoulder at me with one barely open eye.

"Sorry, I had a nightmare." I exclaimed, trying to restart my heart and praying she hadn't realized that her brother had just been pressing his dick on her ass, asleep or not. I suspected that I looked something like an a****l trapped in a hunter's snare, terrified.

"Didn't feel like a nightmare to me." She said, as she gave a long cat like stretch and impishly grinned at me.

"God damn it," I exhaled, wanting to crawl into the crack between the wall and the bed and disappear.

"Oh relax, Adam" she continued, her eyes still laughing at my obvious panic. "It's just human nature. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry, that was really fucked up of me." I still hadn't fully convinced myself to breathe. "God damn it."

She laughed. And kept laughing.

"Oh!" she gasped "This is gonna be fun."

"What the hell do you me-" I stopped mid-question and was no longer mortified. Panic returned. All of the embarrassed crimson in my face drained to pale white. "Oh no... you wouldn't."

She grinned at me with her most evil grin and sighed, rolling on her back to look up at me playfully, upside down on the bed.

"Yep. Christmas dinner. Thanksgiving at Aunt Linda's. Family reunions. Birthday parties." She had a glint in her eye. "Any time you annoy me, I will just bring up the time we fell asleep in the same bed and you tried to have sex with me in your sleep."

"God damn it." I hung my head. "Move out of the way, I need the space to build up speed when I go out that window."

She laughed merrily. "You are so gonna be my bitch."

Amy let me stew in my personal hell a few moments longer, while she cackled gleefully. Then she put her hand on my arm. I looked up at her and marveled at how amazing she looked with her hair all jumbled and falling in her face from sleeping. "I'm k**ding, Adam."

"What?" I looked at her, baffled.

"I'm k**ding." she looked serious. "I wouldn't do that. What kind of terrible bitch do you think I am? It was an accident. I get it."

I exhaled a little, not sure I bought it, and still wanting to find that crack between the wall and the bed.

"But, damn, it's funny watching you panic." She beamed at me again. She crawled up to her knees and waddled across the bed to me. She gave me a hug, as I did all I could not to flinch away from her. "Thanks for last night. You really helped me deal."

She gave me a completely sister-like kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room.

"I want my shirt back, damn it!" I called after her. It was all I could come up with to say. How is it that she always gets the better of me? My cheek burned where her lips had touched it and I noticed I could still smell her scent in the room. It was heavenly.

* * *

That afternoon I met some friends for lunch at a food court near campus. I was grateful for anything to distract me from thinking about my morning. As I sat munching halfheartedly on something that was sold to me as bourbon chicken and struggled valiantly to taste mediocre, when I spotted Jeff sitting with a couple of friends at a table across the food court.

I should leave this alone, I thought. It's not my business. Amy can deal with her own shit. My mind flashed on her standing in my doorway in tears, looking so destroyed and heartbroken. How I felt so powerless to help her afterwards. That was all it took. That piece of shit needed to hear a speech and I was going to give him one. I was probably about to get my ass kicked, and I knew it. But sometimes, it's worth it, right? Hell if I know. I had never been in a fight in my life. I dropped my fork on the table and walked toward him, feeling the world get smaller with every step. I was just going to yell at him for a minute, tell him how badly he hurt her, but seeing him laughing with his friends just boiled my piss further. Their conversation dropped as I reached the table and Jeff glanced up at me.

"Hey Ad-" he started before I grabbed his head and shoved it into the table with all my might. His face bounced off the table as an asterisk of blood appeared on the table's surface. I barely registered that it had happened. My eyes were unfocused and I was just seeing a blur. I was overwhelmed with rage, not even thinking anymore.

His friends jumped back as I grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and jerked him upright.

Blood was dripping on his shirt from his nose.

"A piece of advice, you rotted little cunt," I hissed in his ear, "the next time you decide to break a girl's heart by being the complete scumfuck that you are, make sure she's an only c***d."

He looked up at me with both hands clasped over his bleeding nose. "You broke my nose, you asshole!"

"Really?" I slammed his head into the table again, hearing a satisfying wet crunching sound, and glared at him "If I hear of you going anywhere near Amy again, or hear of you saying one hurtful thing about her, I'll come back and curb stomp your ass. You're lucky I don't rip your fucking dick off right now and feed it to you, shithead."

I jerked him straighter in the chair and stared dead in his eyes with pure rage. He was really pouring blood from his nose now. It came out between his fingers in little crimson streams. He eyes watered unchecked, and his expression, what I could see of it, was total shock and fear.

"Do you understand me? If she gets hurt again by anything even remotely involving you, I will make this look like nothing. I don't care about jail. I don't care about anything that happens after. You will not be around to see it. You got me, fucker?" I was snarling like a caged a****l. My mouth was so dry from the adrenaline and anger that I could barely get the words out.

He nodded at me and I could see in his eyes that he believed me. I released him. He leaned forward on table, grabbing a bunch of napkins for the blood streaming down his face. I would have spit on him if I had been able to generate enough spit to do it.

I walked back, trembling, to my table across the now silent food court where my friends, and pretty much everyone else, stared at me in complete disbelief. Hell, I couldn't believe I had done it, either.

"Holy shit! Adam, what the fuck was that?" John asked me, when I got to the table.

"Dickhead cheated on my sister," I replied after taking a big swig of my bottled water, visibly shaken by what I'd just done. A wave of nausea hit me full force and I fought hard not to vomit.

"Damn, man. I've never seen you that mad." He looked at Jeff who was leaving with his friends. There was blood all over the front of Jeff's shirt. "That guy's bigger than you. How did you know you could take him?"

"I didn't know I was going to do that." I looked around a moment, wondering what the fuck had gotten into me, as people started talking again. I was getting plenty of looks, though. "I should get out of here before someone calls the cops."

"Yeah, let's go." John and the others grabbed their stuff. A couple of them gave me a playful shove as we walked back to our cars. I wasn't feeling jovial about it, though. I was already starting to think about how the hell I was going to explain myself when Amy got wind of this. Hopefully, she wouldn't find out.

Yeah... Right.

* * *

That night I had the house to myself again. I was kicked back on the bed, in the dark, listening to an old Portishead album and sipping a beer. It was well past midnight and I was starting to drift off when I felt a small hand on my chest.

Amy sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at me. I could only make out her silhouette in the shadows, but the smell of her perfume was unmistakable.

"Hey. When did you get home?" I asked, yawning.

"Just a few minutes ago." She replied as she grabbed my beer from the nightstand and took a sip.

"Thief." I mumbled as I reached over and hit the light switch on my desk lamp. I looked up at her and took in the way the soft light fell across her face. Her eyes were still rimmed in sadness. It would take a little while before she was over Jeff, I suspected. But, goddamn, she was beautiful. Suddenly self conscious about the way I found myself looking at her, I blinked away and reached for my beer.

She held up a finger at me and took a big swig from the bottle before passing it back. I polished it off and set the empty on the nightstand.

"So," she began, "my big brother is full of surprises lately."

"Oh?" I had a feeling where this was headed, but elected to play dumb and hope for the best. "Which one is that?"

"The only one I have." She responded quietly. "From what I hear, he beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend at the Seventh Street food court today."

"Sounds like your big brother is an impulsive, immature jackass who should have stayed out of it to me." I sighed, resolutely looking away from her, pretending to be highly interested the goings on outside the bedroom window.
"Well, he can certainly be a jackass sometimes." She took my hand and squeezed it, "but I love that he cares and wants to protect me anyway."

"I wish I could say that's what it was," I replied. "But that wouldn't be entirely true."

Amy gave me a curious look.

"I didn't set out to kick his ass today. I was at the food court with some friends and happened to notice him there. He was laughing at cutting up with his little buddies. I just flashed back on how hurt and upset you were last night... and I just... I saw red." I sighed. "I just reacted with stupid macho bullshit. I'm kind of ashamed of it, to be honest."

"Well, don't be. He's an asshole." She smiled softly, "I have to admit, I was shocked when I heard what you did. But it also made me realize that we hadn't grown apart as much I thought we had. I like knowing that."

I looked over at her and she locked her beautiful blue eyes on mine. Neither of us said anything for a moment. I was unsure what to say, still genuinely embarrassed by my lack of self control, and who knows what she was thinking.

Finally, she spoke "Did you really call him a rotted cunt?" I had never heard her use that word, and was briefly taken aback.

"Um... Yeah. I think I did. I don't really remember." Did I call him that? Wow. I was pissed off.

"That's kinda gross, Adam." She made a face at me. "Even if it's true."

We both chuckled at that as she stood up to leave. "I'm glad you're okay. I don't mean to imply anything, but he's quite a bit bigger than you."

"People have been enjoying pointing that out to me today." I sighed.

When she got to the doorway, she looked back at me for a moment.

"I'm going to have to remember that line the next time some chick pisses me off. Rotted cunt has a nice ring to it." With that, she disappeared to her bedroom.

* * *

A few weeks passed, pretty much like normal until one morning as I sat at the bar in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee when Amy came wandering into the kitchen wearing my This Mortal Coil shirt. She cut her half open eyes at me and mumbled something to the effect of "caffeine" but I wasn't entirely sure. Reaching for a coffee cup from the cabinet with her back to me, her (my) shirt pulled up, revealing her magnificent ass that was covered in only a pair of blue bikini cut panties. I had to discreetly adjust myself as my erection was instantaneous.

"Don't you have any clothes of your own?" I mumbled, motioning to my shirt.

"Yeah, but yours are more comfortable to sleep in." She grinned a little.

"Uh huh." I sipped my coffee and tried like hell to get the image of the perfect ass that I had just seen off of my mind. It felt like it was burned into my retinas as if I had stared at the sun.

"What are you doing today? Are you off?" She asked as she leaned against the bar over her coffee, thrusting her ass back from her body, which again called my attention to her lovely shape.

"I don't really have anything planned." I stretched "Maybe hit the bar tonight with the guys."

"But nothing today?"

"Not really."

"Would you like to hang out with me?" She asked, a little bashfully. "Maybe go walk the nature trails in the park or something? It's supposed to be a nice day out."

I thought about it a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

I could feel the smile emitting from her before I even glanced up to see it.

"Awesome! We're going to have so much fun!" She practically bounced out of the kitchen to go get ready. I have to admit, her excitement was a little infectious.

A short while later, I showered and dressed in tan cargo shorts and a blue Radiohead shirt. I packed the car with my backpack of art supplies (I always had a sketchbook or two with me), bottled water, soft drinks, a blanket, cookware, ice chest, and a few other bits. Amy came out to the car wearing a pair of cut offs and a loose fitting gray shirt. Her long black hair was pulled up in a ponytail, exposing her sensual neck. She was gorgeous.

"What's all this for?" She asked, motioning to the backseat.

"I thought we could use one of the grills at the park and cook some burgers later."

"Sounds perfect!" She exclaimed as she hopped in the car.

We arrived at the park by mid-morning and mercifully, it wasn't yet crowded. We spent the rest of the morning walking the nature trails, as we had loved to do when we were c***dren. We talked a lot about different memories we had shared coming to this park all of our lives, and mostly just enjoyed the sun and each others' company. I couldn't help noticing how delicate her hands looked when she slapped at a bug, rubbing her neck where it had been climbing on her. She just seemed like such an exquisite and otherworldly creature to me, and I couldn't seem to shake the hold that she had on my mind.

When we got back to the picnic area, I got the coals started on the grill and began sketching piles of driftwood at the edge of the lake desperately trying not to stare at Amy stretched out on the blanket, taking in the sun. There were more people in the park now, and a couple of guys came by and started flirting with Amy. I felt pangs of jealousy that I did my best to stamp out by concentrating on the grill and resolutely ignoring them. I was beginning to think I was seriously fucked up in the head. She was my sister, for crying out loud. What the hell was I thinking? Amy was gracious with them, but finally sent them on their way, much to my relief.

After lunch, we packed everything back in the car, and I suggested we rent a canoe to paddle the lake. Amy thought it was a great idea, and we had a fun time paddling out along the waterline far from the camp site and all the people that were around there. I took advantage of being seated to the rear of the canoe for paddling reasons and allowed myself to gaze longingly at her many times because her back was to me. I loved watching the way the sun worshiped her skin, perspiration lightly glistening on her neck and upper back like a glaze. Thankfully, it was a beautiful day out, and Amy enjoyed looking at the birds and other wildlife that congregated around the lake. I caught a small turtle that she thought was adorable and let it wander around in the bottom of the canoe for a few minutes before she begrudgingly released it back into the water. The delighted expression she kept on her face as she played with the turtle was far more adorable than the admittedly cute little turtle could ever be. After several hours that passed faster than I would have liked, we headed home. It was the best time I had spent with anyone in quite a long time.

* * *

Over the next several weeks, Amy started hanging out at home more frequently. She would often come up to my room after dinner and do homework while I painted. Sometimes she'd talk endlessly about different topics as I prepped canvasses and mixed paints, but she seemed to understand that I needed quiet when I was actually working on a design. When I was painting, she would keep quiet and focus on her studies, read, and once in a while, take a nap.

She took a liking to some of the music I played while I worked, and would occasionally request that I make her a copy of some of it. I was amused when she told me that she finally got around to looking up some Einsturzende Neubauten songs and, while she liked the shirt that she had stolen from me, she couldn't understand what I found appealing about the band. I laughed and told her it was an acquired taste.

I found that I genuinely enjoyed her company a great deal, and would sometimes wind up in a debate of some kind or another and get nowhere on the painting I was working on. She was smart, very likely smarter than me, funny, easy to talk to, and had some idea of what she wanted to do with her life, which was more than I could claim.

She liked to travel, and was leaving for Rome soon, a two week trip she had been planning with a couple of friends for several years. They'd saved up for it from their part time jobs and finally had set a date between semesters. I would have loved to see Rome and other parts of Europe myself one day, and we spoke of different places we'd like to visit. I found it hard to keep my eyes off of her, as she would often turn up in her pajamas, which usually consisted of boxer shorts and a t-shirt. She made my life even more complicated when she would turn up after the gym, in tights or running shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt over a sports bra, which accentuated the curves of her breasts. On those occasions, I would try to keep my back to her and keep myself busy, stealing glances at her incredible ass or the swell of her breasts when I felt it was safe to risk doing so.

Somewhat to my dismay, however, I found my attraction to her was not purely physical. She invaded my thoughts at all times of the day and night. For her part, she seemed to enjoy being around me as well. She started texting me while she was in class or while I was at work, telling me about the goings on in her day, or asking me the name of some song or another that I'd had playing when she was around that she wanted to listen to. Her optimism, kind heart, and enthusiasm for life was unbelievably refreshing for me, as I spent much of my time being an introverted hermit, painting away in my room. My friends were all wise asses and bitter artist types. More than once, I found myself wondering why she would want to hang out with me.

The rekindling of our c***dhood closeness, while not intentional, seemed to please our mother a lot, too. I sometimes spotted mom smiling at us from the corner of my eye when we would hang out together watching TV in the living room or the like. It was all a lot to take in. Guilt gnawed at me for feeling the way that I did about her, but I felt powerless to change it. It was a dead end, and I knew it. There was nothing to hope for here. No future. Just pining away stupidly over something I could never have. I needed to distract myself.

* * *

Megan stared at my painting while she chewed her thumbnail, seemingly deep in thought. A little more than a month had passed since the incident in the food court, and she had come by my place to see some of my latest paintings at her own insistence. She slowly moved back and forth down the row of paintings I had leaning against the wall, but kept coming back to the same one.

It was light colored painting, unusual for me, measuring 36 x 48 inches, with light hues of blue, green and yellow throughout. Although it was done in acrylic, it gave off a look similar to a watercolor. The abstract images seemed to form loosely into figures interweaving, sometimes meeting to embrace and sometimes not. The figures were only hinted at, and never fully formed so that the viewer's mind would have to fill in the gaps to realize what they were seeing. From a distance, if one did not focus their eyes on the image and looked at it from the side, there was a very faint depiction of a female face holding an expression of ecstasy into the image that took up the entire canvas. The face was buried under layers and layers of texture, more hinted at than fleshed out. I was quite pleased with the end result. On the surface, it didn't look much different from a lot of my art, color scheme aside, but I had worked very hard to blend in elements of the things I was trying to convey with this one, and I felt like it worked.

"This one," Megan said, speaking around her thumbnail, "there is something about this one. It's really erotic somehow."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

"Oh it's good, it's very good." She looked up at me. "I've never seen you do anything I thought was erotic before."

"Really? Damn. I thought I had moves." I smirked. "Guess I need to try harder in the sack."

She started chuckling, "Oh you've got moves alright, smart ass."

Megan backed herself up to me and pulled one of my arms over her shoulder, resting my right hand on her left breast. I instinctively started feeling for her nipple ring as I hugged her. Luckily, she'd opted to forego a bra that day. She kept staring the painting for a while, until her eyes closed softly and her breath started to quicken.

"You need to do the show next month. I'm telling you, you have to do it." She whispered, letting her head fall back on my shoulder as she reached behind her and started rubbing my cock through my pants.

"Jesus, Meg, again with this?" I sighed in annoyance, despite the attention she was paying to my prick.

"You need to do it, Adam. Dr. Miller would shit if one of his students turned in something like this as an assignment." She gasped as I twisted the nipple ring slightly between my fingers. "Especially after you dropped his class last semester."

"I don't know. I really hate those things, Meg." Although, I had to admit, the idea of annoying Dr. Miller's pompous self-aggrandizing ass did appeal to me. "Oh what the hell..."

"Really?!" She spun to look at me, my boner suddenly forgotten. "You'll do it? I have the submission forms in my bag!"

"Uhm..." I looked down at the bulge in my pants as she darted to where she had dropped her shoulder bag.

"Oh, I know." She giggled, without even looking back at me. "But I'm grabbing these forms before you change your mind. Then, we can get back to that bit of business."

* * *

One Friday afternoon, our parents took off on another of their weekend trips that had become quite common since Amy and I were both adults now. Amy was looking through a women's magazine on my bed while I was working on a new canvas, painting in a second coat of the background color. She held up the magazine to a photo she wanted me to see.

"I'm thinking of adding a blue streak to my hair like this. What do you think?"

I glanced at her for a moment, and then pensively looked away. I dropped my hand to my crotch and grabbed my package.

"Yeah, I was right." I nodded, feigning relief. "Just checking."

She looked at me, baffled. "Checking what?"

"Making sure I was still a guy." I smirked. "Why the hell would you think I know anything about women's hair?"

She rolled her eyes at me. "I just wanted your opinion, ass."

Then she started pointing at me and cackling. Not at the wisecrack, but at me. I looked down to discover that I now had part of a yellow hand print on my cargo shorts, right over my balls. I hadn't thought of the wet paint on my hands when I decided to make the gesture.

"Damn it!" I sighed, and then started snickering as well.

"That's what you get for being a jackass." She snorted. I couldn't argue with that.

Later that evening, after dinner, she was back in my room again, having changed into boxers and one of my Cure shirts. She was making fun of me as I was adding more partial hand prints to my shorts to hopefully help mask the fact that a paint covered hand had clearly grabbed my nuts.

"You know... You could probably do anything you wanted to your hair and still look beautiful." I offered, feeling a little tense as I said it. She had asked for my opinion, and I guessed I would give it to her.

She looked up at me, smiling bashfully. "Thank you, Adam. That's sweet."

"You really think I look... beautiful?" She asked after a moment. I could see her eyes locked on me out of the corner of my eye, but I didn't look up, for fear she would see the answer in my eyes. The answer and more. More than should ever be present in her brother's eyes.

"Definitely," I replied, feeling my chest tighten up as I said it. It was a heartfelt compliment, and one I wasn't entirely comfortable admitting. My eyes continued to avoid hers.

There was an awkward silence in the room, as the computer had finished the playlist I'd had going. Feeling weird about what I'd just said, I went to the laptop and fired up another album. A more upbeat, album that didn't add to the emotional tension I was fighting in myself. She just watched me as I moved about the room, not saying anything.

"Jeff never said I was beautiful." She finally spoke, softly.

"Jeff is an asshole." I replied. "Who gives a shit what he thinks?"

"I know." She smiled. "It's just nice to hear it."

"I call him an asshole all the time." I joked, cutting my eyes at her just in time to duck the pillow flying at my head. I grabbed the pillow and threw it back at her, laughing, grateful for the shift of the mood in the room.

I joined her on the bed and started tickling her, like I had done when we were younger. She thrashed around, squealing, and trying to get away from me while laughing her ass off the whole time. The world felt like it just consisted of that room for a few minutes. I don't know how else to describe how I was feeling at that moment. It wasn't erotic or sexy. I wasn't trying to sneak a feel of her. This was just dumb c***dish fun, something we hadn't done in a long time. We collapsed on the bed, both sweating a little and gasping for breath. I rolled on my back and stared at the ceiling, having worn myself out for a moment and trying not to stare at her heaving chest.

Amy scooted over near me and laid her head on my chest with one arm d****d across me, in a slight cuddle. Only her head, arm, and shoulder touched me. She smelled so good. I looked down and impulsively kissed the top of her head lightly. She tilted her head to look up at me and our eyes locked for a long moment. I desperately wanted to kiss my k** sister's soft, full lips. Kiss her and a whole lot more. Finally, her face broke out in a soft smile. Her eyes seemed to smile as well. Her smile could light up a room, I decided.

"I'm really glad we've become close again."

"Me too." I replied, and meant it.

I broke her gaze and stared out the bedroom window at the sky, feeling an ache in my chest and trying not to let it show.

"Adam?" she asked tentatively.

"Yeah?" I glanced back down, to see she was no longer looking up at me, but instead had her eyes on one of the stacks of canvases against the wall.

"Would it be okay for me to come to your show? I'd really like to go and see my brother's paintings hanging in a gallery, all properly lit. I should get back the day before."

"Of course." I replied, feeling strangely emotional that she would want to come. "It would mean a lot for you to be there."

She hugged me with the arm she'd had on my chest. "Good."

"Hey Amy?"

"Hmm?"

"I want my shirt back."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

The afternoon before Amy was to leave for Rome, the house was a flurry of activity. Mom was going overboard, making lists and nagging Amy she needed was packed for the trip. Our father would periodically pass through the living room and demand to see her passport, boarding pass, and so on in order to make sure she had them all and could grab them on a moment's notice. Amy seemed frazzled by the whole thing, but was still elated. For my part, I tried to stay the hell out of the way. I loaded her phone up with some music she liked to try to help her pass the long flight time with and left it at that. Well, I mostly left it at that. Ever the music nerd that I was, I slipped in a few songs along the way that I felt she needed to hear. After that task was finished, I kept to my room, listening to music, and avoiding the whole scene downstairs. Our mother could get pretty intense about these kinds of things. If I were being honest, I would also have to admit that I really wasn't looking forward to not seeing her for two weeks, even if part of me kind of thought it might be a good opportunity for me to try to shake my ever growing feelings for her.

Later that evening, after the dust had settled and all parties seemed to be content that she was as ready for the trip as she would ever be, I risked a trip into the kitchen to forage for dinner. Amy was eating an apple at the bar in the kitchen when I walked in. I cocked an eyebrow in her direction as I grabbed a beer from the fridge and fished around on my key ring for my bottle opener.
"I need one of those after all that," she smiled at me.

"I'd imagine so. Better you than me. I've already decided that when I go on a trip by myself, I'm going to tell them about ten minutes before I leave when I've already got the car packed." That got a laugh out of her.

She watched me as I made a sandwich, leaning over to snatch a piece of turkey I had just slapped into place and eating it with a little grin.

"Goddamned thief." I muttered giving her a fake evil stare as I dug more turkey out to replace it.

"You gonna miss me?" She asked as she chewed on her stolen turkey with no remorse in her thieving heart.

"I thought maybe a little, but then someone jacked my turkey and I'm thinking of driving them to the airport now to let them hang out in the lounge all night." More than you know, was the answer ringing in my head.

"Mom was saying you have to work in the morning and aren't gonna be at the airport to see me off." There was a hint of disappointment in her voice and I definitely picked up on it.

"I would if I could, sis, but I gotta open the shop tomorrow." I did feel bad about that, but the owner at work was out of town and I was the only one they trusted with the business while they were away.

"I know. I just wanna see you before I go." She was pouting a little. I had to admit to myself that it was rather adorable, if a bit juvenile. I finished my sandwich preparation and looked up to unintentionally lock eyes with her. There was a hesitant look in her eye, like she wanted to say more but chose not to. I hoped she wasn't pissed at me for not being able to take her to the airport.

"We'll hang out tonight, then." I replied, "Hang out and watch a movie or something."

"That sounds like fun." Amy brightened, and gave me a quick hug as she stole a bite of my sandwich. "I'll see you in a bit."

"Damn it, brat!" I looked at the hole in my sandwich in mild irritation, more from habit than actual irritation. If she had stolen a bite of my sandwich when I was fifteen or so, there would have been hell to pay. I've mellowed with age, I guess.

Laughing like the little brat she was being, she disappeared into the living room. I wrapped my sandwich in a couple of paper towels, grabbed my beer, along with a spare from the fridge and scooted upstairs to my room before my mom caught a second wind and started barking orders again.

Amy showed up a little while later, wearing my This Mortal Coil shirt again, and we settled on something to watch. One thing that needed to happen while she was away, I thought, was that I needed to go through her closet and reclaim my damned clothes. I laid back on the bed, and she laid a pillow on my stomach and laid across me to prop herself up so we could both see the TV.

"I'm sure dad's repeatedly given you the speech about being careful while you're over there, yeah?"

"Definitely." She laughed.

"Do I need to give one as well?" I asked, cocking an eyebrow again.

"What's that? My big brother is worried about me?" Amy smiled at me, even her eyes seemed to smile. Her smile could kill someone with a heart condition, I was sure of it.

I shrugged. "Well, yeah. I suppose he is. And unlike dad, he's reasonably sure that you'll spend a good deal of time getting drunk off your ass in night clubs and be vulnerable to all manner of Italian lowlifes."

She reached up and grabbed one of my hands, pulling it to her mouth and kissing the back of it. "I promise to be careful, Adam. I hope to have a lot of fun, but I'll be careful about it." There was a pause. "Thank you for caring though."

I left it at that, I'd said my piece. I really wanted her to have fun and enjoy her trip. Part of me didn't want her to go, but I would never tell her that. I sort of disappeared in my thoughts for the majority of the movie, enjoying that my sister was here with me, spending time with me, and feeling that dull ache in my chest that reminded me that I wanted more from her than that and could never act on that emotion. The movie came to an end, and the credits rolled. Amy didn't move.

A few minutes passed in silence, and I heard her snoring softly. Pinned under her, I didn't see where there was much I could do about the situation without waking her up. Unwilling to do that, I lay there for a while just taking in her smell and reflecting on how great she felt laying against me. Before long, I fell asleep myself.

When I woke up, the room was dark. Amy must have gotten up at some point and turned the light off. She hadn't gone to bed, though. At least not to hers. She was still here, asleep, cuddled up against me. Her left leg d****d over mine, along with her left arm and shoulder across my chest. Her head was laying on my shoulder, with the top of her head just below my chin. It felt very... intimate, and my heart hammered thunderously in my chest at the realization.

I reached up with my free hand and rubbed my eyes, grabbing the bridge of my nose and yawned. The movement caused Amy to stir. She tilted her head, and I felt her lips brush lightly against my neck, her warm breath blowing across my throat. I became aware that her heart was beating fast against the side of my chest.

"Please," she whispered against my throat so softly that I could barely hear her at all, "tell me it isn't just me."

"What do you mean?" Holy. Shit. My stomach knotted up so hard that I wanted to double over. Did she love me back? Was I misinterpreting her meaning? Fuck. I tried to swallow but got nowhere. My mouth was completely dry.

"I mean... I feel like there is more going on with you and me than... brother and sister." She struggled with the words, clearly afraid of my reaction. "It's isn't just me, right?"

Fucking hell. I wasn't the only one feeling this way. It wasn't me dealing with this shit. It was both of us. My mind was racing so fast, trying to untangle my thoughts that I didn't reply. I felt like my body temperature just skyrocketed and I struggled to breathe. I wanted her so badly, I was so in love with her, but to admit it and acknowledge all that it meant was just... overwhelming.

"Please.. Adam," she whispered, her voice was shaking. "Please answer."

The fear in her voice snapped me out of the tangled snarl in my head. I took a deep breath, feeling like someone on a tightrope, and forced out the words. "It's not just you."

"Oh, thank god!" she sighed and squeezed me so hard that I thought she was going to snap one or two of my ribs. I felt dampness hit my neck and realized she was weeping. "I couldn't leave without knowing. I was going crazy."

I was both elated and terrified. I brought my hand up and cupped her cheek. She bent her face to the curve of my palm and placed her hand over mine. I brushed one of her tears away with my thumb.

I slid my hand from her cheek down under her chin and gently guided her head up to meet mine. I couldn't see more than the outline of her face in the complete darkness, but it didn't matter. I leaned in and felt our lips touch. Amy's arm shot up like a mouse trap and wrapped around my head, holding me in place so tightly it almost hurt.

Our lips parted and my tongue started hungrily exploring her mouth, just as hers did mine. We were kissing in earnest, in a way that brother and sister were never meant to kiss. Her lips felt even more amazing than I had imagined. Her tongue seemed kind of small, a bit pointed, and quite muscular. She darted it into my mouth and scouted around with it with much more finesse than my own possessed. She was intoxicating, and I found myself feeling giddy. The kiss was incredible, charged with the anticipation and need that had built in both of us for over the past few months. It felt like seconds, it felt like hours. The immense relief that she shared my feelings was indescribable. I sucked her lower lip into my mouth, gently holding it in place a moment before releasing it as we broke contact to gasp for air. She let out a small whimper that made my heart jump. Within the space of a breath, I dove on her planting a series of kisses along her jawline, down her exquisite neck that had so captivated me these past months and along her clavicle until I was stopped by her shirt collar. Well, my shirt collar, actually. The damned thief. She moved her head to the side to allow me access to her neck and released a combination of moans and whimpers as I worked my way along her neck that threatened my self control with every breath.

"Jesus, Adam" she whispered, her breath heavy and fast, as I kissed my way back up her neck. "You're an amazing kiss. I can't believe this."

"Neither can I." I paused kissing her as my mind snapped back into reality. I wasn't so much of a hedonist that I could lose my grasp on the gravity of the situation.

"I didn't mean for you to stop," Amy pouted into my ear, punctuated by her nibbling my earlobe.

"I don't want to stop, either" I began, "but you're my sister. This is wrong."

"I know," she replied with a heavy sigh, "but it doesn't feel wrong to me. I know it's supposed to, but it doesn't."

She licked my neck and planted a kiss on the wet mark her tongue left. Damn it. My head and my cock both thought that was a hot as hell move she'd pulled. I fought to remain focused on talking this out.

"You have no idea how badly I want you. But this is some heavy shit we're getting into." I took a deep breath, "This could ruin our lives, you know? It's really fucked up."

"You want me?" Amy asked, even in the darkness, I could feel her eyes on me.

"You sorta picked up on the wrong half of that statement, but yes, I want you. More than you know. Maybe more than you will ever know."

"Is this just about sex for you?" She asked timidly. There was a note of worry in her voice, but she was trying to hide it.

"Not at all." I replied as I sat up and scooted back to prop my back against the wall. "I mean, if that's all it was and you felt the same, we might could just sleep together and get on with our lives. It's kind of fucked up, but it's not insurmountable. At least I don't think it is, you know? It's a lot more than sex for me. That's what scares me."

I couldn't decide if it was good or bad that we were in darkness. I felt really exposed talking about my feelings like this. Not only because I was in love with someone I shouldn't be, but because I wasn't one to express my feelings in general. I couldn't see her beautiful face, or the effect my words had on her. In some ways, that was a relief.

I felt Amy shifting on the bed as she sat up and scooted over to me. She felt for my knees, then turned to face away from me, pushing herself back to lay against me. Leaning back to rest her head on my shoulder, she pulled my arms around her. "I want you to hold me." It wasn't a request.

"I can do that." I hugged her to me, taking in the smell of her hair again. She relaxed against me.

"It's more than that for me, too." She sighed, "I've been so confused. And scared to say anything."

"I'm glad you did." I allowed myself a small smile, "But there's still a big problem."

"Yeah, I know." She hugged on my arms.

"You're my little sister, and I love you. You are a huge part of my life. I can't allow myself to cross a line that we can't get back from. If it went bad for us. Everything would change. I have a responsibility to watch out for you. If I were to hurt you, I couldn't do that. I couldn't be there anymore. I don't want you, don't want us, to ever be something I regret. You mean too much to me for that." I said, feeling more exposed than I ever had in my life. I could have walked into the University library ass naked and not felt as vulnerable as I did at that moment.

"Wow..." Amy said very softly. "I mean, holy... shit."

"What?" I was puzzled.

"I think that is the most incredible thing anyone has ever said to me." She sat up to stare at me in the darkness.

"Really? I stole that off of a Hallmark card. They have a whole selection of cards in their web store devoted to i****t." I was immediately rewarded with an elbow to the ribs.

"You can be such a jackass." She laughed and let herself fall back into my arms. "You drop a line like that on me and then follow it up with wisecracks."

"Sorry, I guess." I replied, without much conviction. I'm a born wise ass, I can't help it.

"Actually, it's one of the things I love about you." She sighed. "As far back as I can remember."

After another few minutes passed in silence, then another elbow suddenly shot into my ribs.

"Oof!"

"Wait a damned minute!" She exclaimed, suddenly sounding indignant, "just sleep together and get on with our lives?! You think I'd be that forgettable in bed?"

"That's not what I meant and you kno-" I was cut off by her mouth covering mine again. She was kissing me again, and chuckling when she stopped for air. I decided that if I died that night, having tasted no more than her lips and tongue, I felt I could die happy. A fucking degenerate who got off on kissing his little sister, but at least a happy one.

"I'm just screwing with you." I could feel Amy's smile against my throat as she was kissing it repeatedly, before whispering seductively in my ear. "But just so you know, I'd do everything I could to blow your mind. And I'm pretty sure I could do it, too."

My heart nearly seized up for the third or fourth time that night, not quite believing the words that I heard coming from my baby sister, but my cock certainly got the memo, as I was certain there was no way she didn't feel it pressing against her back by now. Mercifully, she didn't mention it.

"I'd love to see you try. But we can't..."

"I know." She held me close to her, and I hugged back. We lay there in silence for a while before she spoke again. "Fucking Rome. I'm going to miss you so much. I almost don't want to go anymore."

"Don't be silly, Amy." I stroked her hair. "This trip is huge for you. You guys saved for it for years. I'll still be here when you get back. It's only two weeks."

"It's the longest we've ever been apart in our entire lives, you know that? Two weeks."

"Yeah, I know. I'm really looking forward to the peace and quiet."

"Asshole." But there was no malice in her voice, only mild humor and affection.

"I'm going to miss you, too." I kissed the top of her head, "But you are going to have a wonderful time."

After a while, she seemed to fall asleep laying back against me as I remained propped up against the wall. I didn't sleep. I just listened to her breathing and took in her smell, marveling that I was holding my baby sister in my arms in a way that I had so desperately wanted to and would never dare to imagine I would. Despite being taught from a young age that how I felt about her was seriously fucked up and even i*****l to act on, she felt right in my arms. I wasn't sure how to reconcile that in my head.

Just when I was about to fall asleep, I felt her small hand slide up to my throat, the ball of her thumb resting just below my Adam's apple and her long, delicate fingers wrapping up around the side of my neck and base of my shoulder. It occurred to me that she could crush my esophagus from this position. Or try to, anyway. I glanced down at her as her head tilted to look up at me. I could see the curve of her smile in the darkness.

"I think.. as long as we are always honest with each other and take things as they come we will be fine." She said softly.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that as long as we are always honest with each other, always, there won't be room for us to hurt one another and come to regret each other. That way my big brother can always be there for me, as he should and more, and we can worry about whatever lines there are when we get to them instead of having them haunt us with words like 'never' and 'can't'..."

I thought about it for a few minutes, "Maybe..."

"I can live with 'maybe'. 'Never' and 'can't' would be much harder to deal with." She leaned up and kissed my throat above her hand.

"Amy?"

"Yeah?"

"Were you gonna choke me out if I still said 'never'?" She could hear the note of humor in my voice. She knew then that I wouldn't turn my back on our feelings for each other. I don't think I could have made any other decision if I were honest with myself. Wrong or not, I was in love with her.

Her hand slowly slid down from my throat to my chest and she patted it once, lightly. "...such a jackass."

I heard her breathing slow as she drifted off to sleep again. I looked at the clock a short while later, and saw that I had only an hour before I had to leave for work. Time flies. I gently woke her up. We said our goodbyes and she quietly padded to her bedroom. I showered and got dressed. Just before I left the house for the morning, I slipped into her bedroom for one last goodbye kiss, lingering long enough to risk making myself late. Then I headed to get the store open for the day, feeling like a total asshole for not taking her to the airport. I got through the work day on caffeine and the strange sense of elation that accompanies the discovery someone wants you as much as you do them. Even if you aren't supposed to want them. When the shift mercifully ended, my eyes burning from lack of sleep, I went home and collapsed face first on the bed and slept until nearly midnight. The last thing I noticed as sleep overtook me was that the sheets smelled like Amy.

* * *

End of Part 1.