Unforeseen
Young man, his older sister, and unforeseen circumstances...
Content Warning: Suicidal imagery is a part of this story.

***

I often wonder what might have happened if even one thing had been different. What if I had broken up with Charly instead of her dumping me? What if I had just gotten over Mary instead of being stuck hopelessly in love? What if my sister hadn't decided to "do the right thing," despite my wishes? What if we hadn't had that emotional reunion? What if she had remembered her birth control? Endless chains of what ifs and could have beens.

But that's not what happened, and despite it all, I'm not sure that I'd change anything.

I'm getting ahead of myself, though. We need to start at the beginning.

* * *

It's hard to know when this started. I've always been close to Mary. My sister is two years older than I am, but she's never made me feel less than her. Always eager to include me when appropriate, never mean. Well, she did tease me a lot, but it was in fun and never cruel.

Mary and I each had our friends, but we were our own circle of two. Mom and dad divorced when we were both in elementary. We lived in a small, two-story, nondescript white house in the country just outside of town. It was really too cramped for four people, but it felt empty with just mom, my sister, and I. I still have a lot of affection for the old place, though.

Dad was always kind of distant, but he loved us. He remarried and had another child, but we saw him with regularity. Mom didn't remarry but instead went back to work and dated casually. By the time I reached high school, she was either out volunteering or having a good time most evenings. She clearly loved us but had partly abandoned us to our own devices. Our parents had married young, and I think she was reclaiming her youth a bit. Even as kids, Mary and I understood that she was immature and we both resented her for it.

It was this shared feeling of loneliness that brought us closer, I think. I'm not blaming our parents for it, but I wonder if things would be the same had either of them been just a little more present.

So we cooked at least as often as our mother did and took care of most of the household chores. I suppose it was good for us in a way because it made us independent. On the other hand, we often felt that we had no one to turn to except each other. As I grew older, I caught Mary looking at me often. She'd always smile at me, and I came to think of it as an expression of her natural protectiveness. Now, I wonder.

I was fifteen when I first understood how fucked up I was. I'd started dating Charly, one of my sister's friends, early in the year. She was bright and looked good in tight black shirts and skirts, and that more or less let me ignore that she was flighty and conceited. Even then, though, it was just in the way teens often are.

I guess what I'm saying is that yeah, I might have resented her for what happened, but it was honestly pretty standard as far as dramatic high-school breakups go. What was a little weirder, was the way Mary acted about the whole thing.

It was like she had her eye on us the whole time. Especially when we tried to be alone. At first, I thought that she didn't think I was mature enough for that kind of relationship and worried that I'd push things too far with Charly, maybe ruin her friendship. I didn't realize until later that her intentions were both purer and much less so.

Once, during a particularly hot make-out and groping session in my room, I realized that I had left the door slightly ajar. I walked over quickly to shut it, eager have my hands back on Charly's firm but yielding body, when I saw what I thought was movement in the dark hallway. The only other person in the house was my sister, but would Mary really spy on us like that? At the time I wouldn't give the thought any credence. Later, though...

In any case, Charly and I had good times. I won't lie about it. I think she cared for me at least a bit. I lost my virginity to her, although I won't give any details both because of our age and that, honestly, we were both pretty bad at it.

Right after the holiday break, in stark winter, was when I got the text.

I think we should break up.

One sentence, no explanations. It was ridiculous. I called her.

"Thomas," she answered, her voice nervous and cold. She never called me that. None of my friends did. I was always TK.

"What the fuck, Charly? Do I not even get a face to face on this? Or a phone call?"

"I didn't think it would be a good idea."

"Why not?"

"I thought you might get upset and..."

"You're goddamn right I'm upset. What's going on? Have you been cheating on me? Is that it?"

"No! But...god this is hard. Look, I'm into someone else, ok? I'm not cheating, and I want to be honest with you so I thought that the best thing to do would be to end it but..."

The truth rushed out of her like a burst pipe. At least I could hear the guilt in her voice.

"Who is it?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does if I know them."

"It's...Bradley Carson."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. My heart was breaking because she wanted to be with Bradley. Bradley who couldn't string a sentence together without talking about a girl he fucked or complaining about one that fucked him over. Bradley, the rich kid who'd never once tried to understand anyone else and probably couldn't.

To be left for someone else is awful. To be left for someone who used other people was worse. I felt betrayed, and confusingly, worried for Charly given his dating history. But it was her life to do with as she pleased.

"Is there anything I can do...or say..."

I hated the desperation and sadness in my voice. I loved her, though.

"No. I'm...really sorry."

Not sorry enough. When I spoke my voice was dead, and it felt like someone else was talking through me.

"Me too. Don't talk to me again."

I hung up. It sounds lame now, but I was really in love with her. I was still sitting there, on the couch, thinking over and over about what I might have done wrong when mom came home with Mary, having picked her up after swim practice. The cold air that they let in shocked me back to some kind of self-awareness.

I needed someone to talk to, someone who could give me some perspective. I did not want to go to my sister, because Charly was her friend. I didn't want to put her in a position of choosing her friend or me. At that moment I wasn't really sure she'd pick me, in any case. My esteem was pretty much at rock bottom.

So as mom went upstairs to get changed and ready to do whatever it was she found important that night, I followed.

"Hey," I said, quietly. I'm pretty sure my voice was brittle.

"Yes?"

Mom was trying to sound kind, but irritation shone through. She was probably late.

"Could I uh, talk to you about something? It's kind of important..."

"Oh, honey, could we talk later? I'm late and..."

I saw the distraction in her eyes, the complete lack of interest.

"Sure. Whatever."

"Thanks, sweetie," she said, kissing me on the cheek and disappearing into her room.

I went into my own room and closed the door behind me. Somehow our exchange had left me feeling even worse than before. Soon enough I heard mom's car start and roll back out of the driveway. I lay down quietly in the early dark of winter and eventually fell asleep.

* * *

I woke up to a gentle tapping at my door. I was bleary and confused for a moment. The door opened just a crack. Enough for light from the hallway to pour in and show my sister's worried face.

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," I said, turning on the lamp that sat near my bed. Mary walked in, ignoring the bean bag chair, and instead sat on the bed on one leg, facing me.

Even then she was beautiful. I didn't just believe it, I knew it for a fact. Gravity made you fall, fire could burn you, and Mary was gorgeous. That night she had her glossy black (dyed) hair in a medium-length bob, which made her storm-gray eyes seem even more intense. She was slim, still growing into her body, but already she had high cheekbones and sensual lips.

I guess it's possible that I already had kind of a thing for her.

"Did you forget that it was your turn to make dinner?"

"Oh...oh shit. Yeah...let me just get up, and I can get it started. I'm sorry..."

She just smiled.

"I made soup. It's fine. I thought you might just be tired, but when you didn't come down for food, I got worried. What's going on."

"Uh...nothing," I said, unconvincingly. She rolled her eyes.

"Come on. I'm your sister. Bullshit like that might work on mom, but not me."

I laughed, maybe a little bitterly, but I was grateful that she pushed.

"Charly...broke up with me."

"Oh shit, what?"

Her mouth dropped open with shock. I guess I wasn't the only one who thought that we were doing fine.

"Yeah. I got a text, then I called her. I guess she's found someone else and I was..."

I stopped being able to talk and dissolved into tears. I felt ashamed. Weren't men supposed to be strong when this stuff happened? Was I supposed to get drunk and go fight Bradley? I really didn't want to do either of those things.

"Oh god. I'm so sorry."

She moved beside me and put her arm around me and pulled me close like she would when we were much younger, and I'd had a nightmare. She made no demands, just held me, occasionally speaking quietly while I let my emotions have free rein. I stopped feeling ashamed.

"I'm sorry," she said after I'd calmed down a little, "I should have..."

"What would you have done? She's your friend, but she makes her own decisions."

"No, I know. I just meant that I had a bad feeling when you first started dating. She's always jumped from boy to boy, usually whenever things started getting serious in the feelings department. But you looked so happy with her, and I thought maybe things would have been different this time. I should have warned you."

"Do you really think I would have listened? I...I guess I loved her. I would probably have told you to mind your own business."

"Maybe. But...ugh. It's so typical for her. She might feel guilty but I guarantee you she never really gave any thought to how you'd feel, or that you'd been so much better for her than her prior boyfriends. I just want to beat her up a little. Do you want me to?"

"What? Like, punch her?"

"Yeah. Nothing serious. A couple of body punches and maybe a black eye."

I laughed. The idea of Mary standing up for me wasn't odd, but the thought of her fighting was almost unthinkable.

"What," she said, mock offended, putting up her fists, "I can fight! I'm tough! People fear me!"

"Yeah, ok, calm down Wolverine, I get the idea. No. I don't think I want her to get hurt. I just want to stop hurting."

"Well, that takes time...and distractions. So I guess we're going to be hanging out more."

"You don't have to feel sorry for me..."

"Do you think that's what this is? I mean, I do feel bad for you, but I like hanging out with you. We haven't really done a lot of that in a while. I'm a Junior, too, so we don't have that much longer until I go to college..."

I would miss her a lot, but I could tell that she felt most badly about abandoning me to our mother. I'd still see my father and our half-sister once every few weeks, which was nice. And while we didn't really think of her as our step-mother, his wife Rebecca was genuinely kind and cared for both of us, even if she was pretty bougie, and both of us loved our younger half-sister, Chelsea.

I don't know what I was thinking at that moment. I think I was probably just really grateful that my sister cared this much for me and I wasn't sure how to express it in words. So I put my hand on her cheek, gently, and said: "Thank you."

She leaned a little bit into my hand as if she really liked how it felt. Then she looked at me in a way I wasn't accustomed to, and I was worried that I'd crossed some kind of line. I hadn't intended to, at least not consciously. I could see in the warm light of the lamp that her face had become a little flushed. Then it happened.

Mary leaned in and kissed me. It felt sudden, although she moved slowly as if she was afraid of scaring me. I was scared, but not of her. I was frightened of how soft and yielding her lips felt, of how natural it was, of how I went from sad to aroused so quickly, of how her tongue slipped in my mouth.

I guess we made out. It didn't last long, maybe thirty seconds to a few minutes. It was so intense that as Mary pulled away, I sat there, stunned for a moment. We just looked at each other, breathing hard, wondering what had just happened between us. Finally, she stood.

"I'm, uh, going to go downstairs and watch tv if you want to join me. And you should eat something."

Then she left quickly, and I heard her footsteps almost running down the stairs. I waited for a few minutes for my pants to calm down, then I went downstairs too. I ate some of her soup, which was pretty good, and then I did watch tv with her. We were mostly quiet, and a little awkward, but by the end, we were kind of cuddled together like we were little kids again. It was nice, and things were fine between us and not really weird at all.

Except that I was thoroughly and uncomfortably aware of how my older sister was an incredibly attractive young woman. That would complicate things a bit in the future.

That's how it started, for me anyway. Before that kiss, I would have told anyone that I loved my sister and that she was a wonderful person. After that kiss, I would still have said that, but the love was mixed with a deep longing and an ever-increasing lust.

Neither of us took any other steps, though. We knew how immoral that would be, at least in the eyes of others. I also think that Mary also had a much deeper understanding of how pushing past that line would impact our relationship, which she valued tremendously.

We both dated. I felt an occasional pang of jealousy when I saw her showing affection to another guy. When she noticed me noticing, I could tell that she felt a little guilty, which in turn made me feel guilty. I mean, who was I to dictate who she spent her time with or loved? It was weird.

I dated too. I never really fell in love the way that I had with Charly, but my sort of sad bad boy image seemed to work to attract the kind of girls that I liked. And I was a pretty good boyfriend, too. I'm not really being conceited here, it's just that my early independence had forced me to mature more quickly. I was far more considerate and thoughtful than most of my peers. I found that after I'd gone out a few times with girls that they started falling for me quickly. That raised my self-esteem a bit, but as I didn't always feel the same way, I tended to break things off gently before things got too heated. I guess I learned that from Charly, although I never left any of my girlfriends for another woman.

Things went like that for a few years. Mary graduated and left for college. I ended up a senior, surprising myself with my good grades and scaring myself with opportunities to go to places that I had never even considered. It's amusing looking back. I had no problem with commitment at fifteen, but at eighteen the idea of choosing a major terrified me.

Mary and I were still close. She may have been at Vanderbilt, but we always spoke on the phone at least once a week and hung out when she was on breaks. She came home more than her friends did, and I knew it was to be with me, and be there if I needed support. Maybe she worried too much, but she was just a good older sister.

That's what I told myself, anyway.

Previously, Mary and I had alternated in the role, but with her at college but I was now Chelsea's regular babysitter. Dad and his wife Rebecca always wanted to pay me for it, but as much as I loved money, it felt wrong. Taking care of Chelsea mostly amounted to just hanging out around the house with her. So it was that I was with her the night things changed forever.

Chelsea was twelve at the time and was working on some difficult math homework. I was sitting close to her and reading, helping her when she asked. She had dad's eyes and her mother's brown hair. She'd styled it many times over the years to match Mary's.

Mary was her idol. The cool older sister who never minded hanging out with her and giving advice, talking with her about things that she wasn't comfortable discussing with her loving, but perhaps not as approachable, parents.

I was definitely Chelsea's big brother. Sometimes annoying her but mostly just taking looking out for her and making dumb jokes and playing video games or taking her places. People acted like I was some kind of super-good person for hanging out with her, and I wondered where they got such low expectations of boys. Then I thought of some of my peers in high school and I understood why.

Chelsea and our father got along, and in fact, he was a lot closer to her than he was to Mary or me at her age. Maybe I should have been resentful, but it looked like Dad was trying to learn from his mistakes in his first marriage, being more attentive to his wife as well. It made my little sister happy, so it made me happy. Her mother was a bit demanding at times, but there was also real love between the two of them.

All this made what happened worse.

As Chelsea finished up her homework, my phone buzzed. It was mom, which made me immediately concerned. Since she'd been coming home drunk more as of late, I'd had nightmares of having to identify her body. I guess its ironic that she wasn't the one in trouble.

"Are you with Chelsea?" Mom didn't even greet me, and her voice was cold. Not with lack of feeling but as though in shock.

"Yeah, mom, for at least another couple of hours. What's up?"

I heard a deep sigh.

"There's been an accident. I don't know much, but both your father and Rebecca have been taken to the hospital."

"Oh god," I said, aware of Chelsea's searching, intelligent gaze.

"Yeah. I'm sorry to put this on you, but would you mind..."

"Do you want to meet us there?"

"Yes...and, you should know...dammit, this is hard..."

"What, mom?"

"Your father's next of kin is Mary, and then you. You're eighteen. You might be asked to make some medical decisions. I'll be there to help, but..."

"I understand," I said, barely comprehending what was going on, "and we'll be there soon."

"What's wrong," Chelsea asked me as soon as I hung up, worry present in her eyes.

"It's dad and your mom. They've been in an accident. I don't know how bad it is, but they're in the hospital."

Chelsea's lips tightened, her eyes growing wide. I could tell she was desperately trying to hold back tears and maintain a brave face, just like her mom.

"Hey," I said, "It's fine to cry, ok? That's normal, but we have to get going, ok? Grab your stuff, and we'll get going."

We left fast, into the cold drizzle of the late fall night. Although I was worried about the situation, I was grateful that I was at least there with Chelsea. We drove in relative silence, Chelsea in quiet tears, but holding my hand every chance she could. When we arrived, the hospital was relatively quiet. It was a Wednesday, and apparently, there hadn't been much action. It somehow made it worse.

Chelsea and I were directed to a waiting room in the far back, exclusive for the Intensive Care Unit. None of this was good. We arrived before my mother, which was expected given that we had been closer when we got the call. I gave my name to the woman at the desk, told her who we were there for, and then sat with Chelsea. We were quiet for a few minutes before she spoke.

"Do you think they're going to be ok?"

I looked at her. Her face was pale, and her voice shook a little. Her core family had always been a tight, unshakeable unit, something that she had faith in.
"I don't know," I responded honestly, "but whatever happens, I'm here for you, ok? Mary too. I don't know how things will turn out, but you're not alone."

She nodded and tried to smile reassuringly at me. It broke my heart. Would she see either of her parents again? Would she even have a chance to say goodbye?

We'd find out soon enough.

* * *

My mom arrived about twenty minutes later. She barely had time to tell us that Mary would be home on the next flight before the doctor came out to see us. He looked tired and grim. He was however straightforward.

"Which one of you is the next of kin?"

It took me a moment to realize that at the moment, it was me. I stood up and shook his hand.

"I'm his son and her step-son. My older sister would technically be next of kin but won't arrive for a bit."

"Well, as long as your an adult you can make the required decisions. Do you want to speak with me privately or..."

He trailed off, obviously but not directly referring to Chelsea. I looked at her. She was sad but strong. Also, I knew that any attempt to "protect" her from the truth would feel like deception to her, and right now she needed to be able to trust me.

"We can talk here," I said with more confidence than I felt. He nodded.

"Your step-mother is doing well. She got out of surgery and remains unconscious, but we're optimistic that she'll wake up. She broke her arm, leg, and several ribs. Her internal organs took a beating, but most of it is bruising, so we only to stitch her up in a few places. Her head injuries are rather mild, so we don't think she has a brain injury. We just need to observe her for now."

Chelsea sighed in relief, but her hand shot up to take mine. She knew, just as well as I did that the bad news was yet to come.

"Your father didn't make it. I don't know any better way to put it. He received catastrophic damage to his brain, and we couldn't even keep his autonomous functions going. There was nothing we could do. I'm sorry."

Mom gasped. Chelsea wobbled, just a bit. I looked down and saw her desperately trying to hold back tears. When she looked up at me, she broke. I held her and let her cry. The doctor spoke, and I answered, but I don't remember what I said.

Later, we visited Rebecca. She didn't wake up that night and was puffy and full of needles and tubes. The vibrant and youthful woman was almost completely unrecognizable. Chelsea held her hand and spoke to her for a while. Then, after I'd signed a few things and made a few necessary decisions, we left.

* * *

Thankfully the doctor didn't offer to let us see his body. I might have been okay with it, but Chelsea had been through enough.

After a brief discussion, Mom and I decided to have Chelsea stay with us for the night. Neither Rebecca nor our father had any other living family, and even if they did, none of them knew her like Mary and I did. Separating her from her family would be cruel. Soon enough we were home. It was well after midnight

Chelsea was largely silent. I led her upstairs and got her settled in Mary's room, getting her some old clothes to sleep in. She was utterly exhausted and passed out almost immediately.

I should have gone to sleep myself, but right then I felt responsible for everything. I distracted myself with the "easy" decisions, although they didn't seem that way at the time. I picked a local funeral home, chose what coffin I wanted from their website, decided on a place for the funeral. The last part was made easy already knowing where dad and Rebecca went to church. As for time, if at all possible I'd wait for Rebecca to wake up, but I wouldn't let it drag on forever either.

After that, I priced out things like flowers and burial plots at our local cemetery. I even started writing his obituary. At last, I reached a point where I was too tired to continue avoiding my real worry: Chelsea.

What would happen to her if her mom went into a coma, or worse? Who would care for her? I knew it couldn't be my mom, and Mary was out of town at college already. I knew already that she'd offer to drop out, but that didn't make sense when I could just delay starting.

I was worried, terrified if I was honest. Chelsea was mature but fragile. I knew enough about custody to understand that the state might look askance on an eighteen-year-old taking guardianship of a child, but the thought of her going into foster care filled me with a resolve that I didn't know I had.

No. There would be no foster care, no shipping Chelsea off to some convenient but heartless boarding school. I would take care of her. Mom might help and Mary definitely would, but if I had to do it on my own, that was how it would be. I would not abandon my little sister.

I was so focused on this train of thought that I wasn't even aware that it was nearly five am, and I jumped about a foot in the air when there was a knock at the door. When I opened it, Mary rushed into my arms, hugging me hard. I wasn't prepared for it. I was expecting her to call us for a ride, but she must have taken an Uber.

I held her tightly, her clean scent filling my nose. Oh fuck, not now. Not now, please. Her body pressed into mine, demanding the comfort of a loved one, and I found I needed it too. Finally, she stepped back, right before feeling my swiftly growing erection.

Her hair was longer than I'd last seen it, still dyed black. To my shame, I couldn't help but notice the thin curve of her hips through her blue jeans, the tight pinch of her waist, or the pert attention of her breasts concealed by her black sweater. I felt another pang of guilt at realizing that she wasn't wearing a bra. She was about the same height as she had been years ago, but I'd grown, so I was easily six inches taller than her now. Her eyes were red and had dark gray circles beneath them, and her mouth was drawn and tight, showing the stress and worry.

"Are you ok?"

I smiled, really smiled, for the first time in hours. Mary was already looking out for me.

"Yeah, sis, I am. It sucks, but I'm all right."

"Then why are you awake?"

She pushed past me as I closed the door, throwing her bag on the sofa. She always did know how to get right to the point.

"Because...I had a lot of thinking to do."

It was true.

"Yeah, but there's time for that tomorrow. And there's no point in you..."

She stopped as she caught sight of my open laptop and notebook. She read the list I'd made and filled in, the prices, contact information, and budgeting, how much could come from my own savings until, hopefully, reimbursed in part from our father's insurance.

"Did you do all this tonight?"

"Yeah," I said, suddenly realizing how this might look to her. I hadn't consulted Mary at all about any of it, and really she had a right to weigh in on things like the funeral. "I'm sorry. I really should have made these decisions with you and..."

"No," she said, looking at me somewhat uncertainly, "I'm fine with the decisions, TK. I just...you know you don't have to do all this on your own, right? I'm here."

"Yeah, but you're grieving too. And Chelsea's really going to need you. Probably more than me, if I'm honest. She's always been closer to you. I'm not even sure if I'm making the right decisions for her, in any case. I let her listen while the doctor told us about her mom and...and that dad was dead."

"Chelsea isn't closer to me. We just have a different relationship. And you know how she is. She needed to hear it at the same time as you. If she hadn't, she'd have thought that you were coddling her, and she can't stand that. Especially not from the brother she looks up to so much."

I felt the weight of responsibility again, sinking down. Mary saw my eyes cloud over and hugged me back. This time there was no hope for me. I was tired and sad and more in need of human contact than at any time I could think of, especially from a woman. She had to have felt my cock harden and push into her belly. I'm sure that she did.

Mary jerked back suddenly as if she'd been bitten. Oh god, not now. We'd danced around this, avoided it, pretended that there was nothing. But she couldn't ignore that.

"Oh, fuck, Mary. Look, I'm..."

She pressed a finger to my lips, her expression completely unreadable. Internally, I was panicked and afraid that my traitor body had pushed her away. I knew that she'd turn around and go upstairs and pretend that it didn't happen.

Instead, she leaned in, and for the second time in my life, kissed me full on the lips. It was slow, not fast. I could have said something or side-stepped it, or held my hand out. I knew from prior experience what was coming as soon as she started moving. God help, me, I stood my ground, met her lips with mine, and pulled my sister's tight body into mine, crushing her against my chest, feeling her nipples stiffen against me.

We stood there next to the front door and made out like there was no tomorrow. I felt all the comfort that such affection can provide, and a resurgence of all the feelings and desires that I had for my sister. There would be no repressing this, not after a kiss like that.

Eventually, Mary pushed away, licking her lips as if unable to get enough of my taste. Her eyes widened, and a small, tense frown appeared on her face.

"Oh...oh god. TK, I'm sorry. I don't know what got into me. Shit, yes I do. I know I'm sick. I just...love you so much. You're hurting, and I want to comfort you but not...not like a sister would."

She grew quiet as she said the last words, as though all the air had gone out of her. Both of us understood what she meant. I wanted that kiss as much as she did, although I would never have initiated it. I was tired, washed out, and confused. I saw that she was watching me with growing fear. I couldn't allow that.

"Mary, I fucking love you, ok? And I loved kissing you. I don't really give a shit if someone else thinks its wrong. You're the kindest woman in the world, and you're not sick. I just...I needed that really badly."

Her small, sad smile returned, and she looked around, suddenly realizing that despite the lateness of the hour, she'd been making out with her brother in the open. Then she returned her attention to me again.

"You haven't slept at all, have you?"

"I'm not sure I can. I'm so fucked up about this and...Chelsea needs me tomorrow. I'll just have to deal with it."

"No, you need sleep. I'll be here for her this morning, and I can make the calls that you were going to. You've written down all the numbers and everything."

The idea of rest sounded beautiful. I needed it too, but I knew that it wouldn't come.

"I...I guess. But I honestly think I'm just going to end up staring at the ceiling for a few hours."

She looked at me and bit her lip. She held out her hand.

"Come on," she said.

I took her hand, and she led me upstairs, to my room. Despite what had just happened this felt just like the elder sister who had cared for me when I was sick, or sad. The one who knew just how to comfort me when I was confused or angry. The one who would never abandon me, and who I knew loved me more than she should.

She led me through the door to my room and guided me gently in. I expected her to leave, but she didn't. Instead, she shut the door behind her, which clicked with an air of finality. I wasn't aware of what was going on, but I didn't say anything.

"You need sleep, and you need to relax. You can't carry this by yourself. You're strong and I...I love you for it, but you need help. Will you let me help you tonight?"

I nodded, grateful if confused. Mary smiled, both caring and a little...eager?

"Ok, take off your jeans and lay down, all right?"

I took off my shoes and pants and lay down on the top of my sheets.

"Good boy," she said, and her voice had a new tone, one that I wasn't familiar with. It made my cock harden fast, and my breath quicken. "Can you close your eyes for me?"

I did as instructed, and said nothing.

"I...really want to do this for you. I wanted to years ago when Charly dumped you and every time I saw you sad or alone. I wanted to be more for you, but...I knew it was wrong. Tonight, though...it doesn't have to be more than a moment of love between a brother and sister. No one has to know. And you can pretend its someone else, ok?"

Her voice faltered a little at the end, and I wondered if she was trying to deceive herself or me. She did not want me to imagine it was anyone but her.

I almost jumped out of my skin when I felt her small, warm hand on the outside of my boxers. I opened my mouth to ask her, but all that came out was a groan as she moved her hand up and down.

"That's right...let me take care of you."

I gripped the covers on my bed tightly as I surged to hardness under her ministrations. I heard her hum with satisfaction as I filled her grip. Then she gently tugged my boxers down, and I lifted my hips to let her. I was afraid then. Afraid that I might repulse her, or worse, be somehow not up to her expectations. Her reaction let me know that I did not have to worry.

"Fuck, it's nice," she said, under her breath. I smiled at her spontaneous exclamation before I moaned again as her hand touched me again, this time skin to skin. I felt myself lose control of my body, my hips bucked up into her grip as she moved up and down, slowly, and tortuously lightly. I wanted her to grip me tightly, to hurt me even. I would take any punishment as long as she jerked me off until I came.

I was breathing hard, making grunts and exhalations when she stopped. I moaned, almost whimpered, in need.

"It's ok," she cooed, "I'm here. I'm going to take care of you tonight...and...as much as you want..."

Then I felt her hand on the base of my cock again, but she left it frustratingly still. I could almost feel her tension building as if she was building up the courage to do something. We'd already crossed so many lines. What could be stopping her?

Then I felt her warm, tight, lips wrap themselves around the head of my cock and I almost lost my mind. She moved up and down immediately, giving me no time to adapt or process what she was doing. I was falling. That was what it felt like, falling. No rope to hold on to or net to save me. I think this was when my already inappropriate feelings towards her surged into full, real love, and I realized that I'd never, ever, felt anything like it before. And still, her wet warmth surrounded me.

She brought her mouth down, suddenly, burying me in her throat. I groaned. She worked me faster and used her hand on the bottom part of my cock. I thought about how well she did this and was jealous, truly jealous, of anyone who had been serviced by her. How dare they touch what was mine? I knew that she was her own person and that my thoughts were misguided and sick but I needed her so badly, and I suddenly needed her to be *mine* and mine alone.

I began to buck up and down. I wanted to touch Mary's hair, to tell her how much I loved her, but I was afraid that if I did, I would grab her head and fuck her mouth. I didn't want to take from her, not tonight when she was so giving. Her tongue began to move and swirl, and she sped up, this time not building me up quickly. I opened my mouth to tell her that I was about to cum, but she knew it.

I exploded, my seed filling her mouth and throat. I heard her gag a bit, and I felt guilty, but I kept pumping stream after stream until I was empty. I heard her sucking and licking and felt my body go limp. Then I heard her swallow the last of me, and I felt like that was the most erotic noise I had ever experienced.

"There...is that better?"

There was a brittle tone to Mary's voice. She was nervous. About what, that I'd have second thoughts? If anything, I imagined how I wanted to make *her* feel good in the future. I opened my eyes and looked into hers. I pushed a strand of loose black hair behind her ear.

"Mary...thank you. I love you."

"You don't need to thank me...I just wanted to...to make you feel a little better, ok? It...it doesn't have to be more...unless..."

"I fucking need you, Mary," I said with a force that shocked even me. Her eyes grew a little wider. "I need you, and I love you, and not just like a sister. You're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen, and I want you to be mine."

She nodded, the faintest hint of a tear at the corner of her eye. I suddenly felt the weight of my exhaustion bearing down on me. She kissed me gently. It could have even been described as chaste if it hadn't been on my lips.

"Sleep well, TK. Let me handle the morning, and we'll get through this together, ok?"

I was asleep before she closed the door behind her.

* * *

The next week went as well as could be expected, I suppose.

The following morning wasn't awkward between Mary and I. We locked eyes several times and touched each other reassuringly throughout the days ahead, but we didn't act on anything. It's as though we had a new secret line of communication between us, and we knew that we had to take care of some things before we could take care of each other.

Chelsea was a wreck, and we spent as much time with her as she would allow. Sometimes we talked to her, other times we just watched movies. We both held her a lot while she cried. We took her to see her mother in the hospital as much as she wanted. Chelsea would hold her hand and tell her mundane things and even gossip. It was hard on her, but I also think it was good for both of them.

The doctors advised us not to wait for Rebecca to have the funeral. They were optimistic, but they also told us that it could be a month or more before she woke up and that there would be a lot of recovery time after that before she left the hospital.

Chelsea was the one to suggest that we have the funeral and burial and then have a wake when her mom woke up. When not if. Mary and I agreed immediately.

The funeral was small but lovely. There were few family members, but a surprisingly large number of friends. The service was held in a small sub-chapel within the church he attended. We buried our father under gray skies and cold drizzle. I squeezed Chelsea's hand as he went down into the earth.

Chelsea wanted to spend the next day with her friends, and I agreed that it was a good idea for her to get out a bit. I think that was why mom thought it was the right time to bring up "what to do" with her. She was wrong.

Mary and I were seated at the kitchen table, in amicable silence. I was going through Dad's finances and finding the way to pay off Rebecca's hospital bills while Mary took on the unfortunate tasks of calling in his life insurance. We'd kept busy with jobs like this, but with Chelsea out of the house, it was only a matter of time before we picked up where we had left off. Her smoldering looks and soft sighs as she walked past me were proof enough of that.

Mom had been on her best behavior and had made a point of being present for both of us as well as drinking very little. I was skeptical if that would continue and unfortunately, she proved my concerns valid.

"I'll call the state foster care tomorrow," she said, walking in with a full glass of red wine in her hand. Mary looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

"Why would you call them?"

I had asked the question, but not in good faith. I had hoped that my cold tone would warn her from continuing this line of thought, but she either wasn't aware of it or did not care.

"Because Chelsea needs to be with people that can...properly care for her," Mom answered.

Mary spoke before I could, her eyes narrowed.

"You can't be serious. Chelsea just lost her father...and maybe her mother. She can't go live with strangers! Not when we can help."

"I don't have time to devote to caring for another of that man's children, and you have to go back to college. She's going into foster care until Rebecca wakes up and that's final."
"No," I said, quietly, without looking up from my laptop.

"What?"

"I said 'No.' She's not going into foster care. Ever. And I'm sickened that you'd even bring it up."

Mary looked at me with concern now, always the peacemaker. But now wasn't a time for peace.

"TK, I respect what you're saying, but it isn't really your decision, is it? Not while you live under my roof."

"You're right, it isn't my decision. It's not yours either. It's hers, but I'm pretty sure I know what she'll choose."

Mom set her wine down and stalked over to me, crossing her arms.

"I know you feel strongly about this, Thomas, but I'm your mother, and I've made up..."

I finally lost my temper. Dad was barely in the earth, and she wanted to get rid of my little sister. I was having a lot of trouble with right and wrong lately with one sister, but not with Chelsea.

"Shut up. You won't have to care for her under your roof because I'm going to go live with her under her own. I've done the math, and her parent's finances are fine, even though we can't do much with them yet. I'll pay for her out of my own college savings. Mary can go back to school, and if I have to postpone mine for a year and work, so be it. But Chelsea stays with her fucking family. And if you call the state or anyone else who might even have the slightest chance of taking her away, then I will never call you mother again. Understood?"

Mom didn't fight, but she didn't say anything, either. I hadn't expected her to. She walked off, face flushed with anger and probably alcohol. Speaking of which, she didn't forget to take her wine glass with her. I sighed and looked up. Mary was staring into my eyes, which somehow unsettled me more than the entire previous conversation.

"TK, uh..."

"I'm sorry, Mary. I didn't mean to lose my temper. I just couldn't handle any more of her bullshit. If she'd let Chelsea stay here, I'd have been happy to do everything on her behalf. But she couldn't take the risk of anything interfering with even a second of her never-ending party."

"No...it's ok. I've just never seen you like that before."

"Seeing me like what?"

"Stern. Determined. Protecting those you care about. It kind of...well, it really turns me on, if I'm honest."

She blushed and looked down right after she said the words. Neither of us had spoken about what we'd done in my room, although we both had acknowledged it with furtive touches and glances. By saying the words, she'd admitted that it wasn't just a one-time thing. Like most of our mutual decisions, she'd taken the lead, intentionally or not.

* * *

Chelsea did want to return to her own home and was happy to have me around. Mom wasn't pleased, but she took no action to stop us. After she'd sobered up the next day, she was standoffish with me but kind with Chelsea, and I suspected that she felt guilt at her previous words.

It was a Saturday, and I was moving some of my clothes and school books over for my hopefully temporary stay at my dead father's house. Mary had missed several classes and absolutely had to go back on Sunday, but she agreed to help me move, as well as spend the first night there "to help get Chelsea situated."

While I finished moving the heavy stuff, Mary and Chelsea went to the grocery store. That way we'd be sure to have healthy food around because otherwise, I'd probably order pizza every other night, which wouldn't be good for us or my savings.

Chelsea was happy to have both of us there the first night, but I knew what Mary was really intending by the intense looks that she had been giving me the entire day. I was nervous every time I was alone with her the whole day and unsure about taking things further. The night that she'd serviced me had been beautiful and exactly what I needed. Even after that, I still felt that we could move back to something like a healthy relationship, should we so choose. If we went further if we made love...there were any number of ways that could go wrong. What if she hated it? What if she met someone else? What if I met someone else? I loved her on more than one level and being separated from her would hurt me more deeply than I could imagine. And that was to say nothing of the risks of getting caught or getting her pregnant.

These were the anxieties that were running through my mind as we made dinner together. I'd moved everything I needed at least for the next few weeks, and Chelsea seemed to be settling back into her routine. I made the spaghetti and meat sauce, Chelsea made garlic bread, and Mary made homemade Caesar dressing for the salad.

As we worked, I realized that we looked like, and acted like, a family. Not brother and sisters, though. More like a mother, father, and child. Thankfully Chelsea hadn't noticed the way Mary kept touching me and giving me teasing smiles. I got a little payback for all the ways that she was working me up by grabbing her ass as she was mixing the salad together. Her flushed face and bit lip as she looked at me told me that it had the intended effect.

We finally sat down. Chelsea insisted on saying grace. I knew that she didn't particularly like church, so it was probably because it was what her parents would have done. We ate in silence for a few minutes.

"Thank you," Chelsea said, her voice breaking. Her eyes were moist, and she was doing her best to hold in tears.

"You don't need to thank us," Mary said, and I nodded in agreement.

"You didn't have to do this. I know you have your own life, TK...and school, and college next year, too. And Mary can't keep coming back all the time..."

"Yes I can," Mary said looking carefully at Chelsea, and then at me, "I want to. I can even take a semester off or transfer..."

"No," I said, wishing I could agree to the latter part, but Vanderbilt had been her dream for a very long time. "You're halfway done. Anyway, I'm getting toward the end of my senior year, and I already got accepted to a local school. I'll easily be able to manage my last semester and this brat."

Chelsea fake scowled at me, and I winked at her.

"Are you sure?" Mary asked. There was worry and maybe even a little hurt in her eyes.

"Mary, your opportunity is unique, and we both understand that. You know that I'll...that we'll miss you, right? Even if you are kind of a pain in the ass."

Chelsea snickered, and Mary stuck her tongue out at me, and then laughed at me as I blushed, remembering what it felt like on my cock. We ate, and told dumb jokes, and talked about Chelsea's schedule of events, both during and after school.

After a while, I cleaned up and washed the dishes while Chelsea and Mary went upstairs to get washed up and ready for bed. Chelsea would sleep in her own room, Mary took the guest room for the night, and I'd be on the couch for at least one night.

Neither Mary nor I intended to follow that plan.

I laid down on the couch and turned the lamp off. I stared at the ceiling. Chelsea was probably asleep by now. I was convinced that Mary would come to me at some point in the night. All I had to do was wait.

But I didn't want to wait. I wanted her. Now. For all I knew this might be the last time we ever did something like this, and the idea of missing the opportunity terrified me. To be honest, the whole thing terrified me. And the thing that shook me up the most was the understanding, deep in the pit of my stomach, that I was in love with her. This was different than anything I'd experienced before. I thought that I'd been in love with Charly, but that was a teenage crush compared to the complex, layered, and confusing feelings that I had for Mary.

If I made love to her, I could change what we had and lose her forever.

If I didn't, I could break her heart and lose her anyway.

I took a deep breath. I could sit here all night and fill myself with could-be's and should-have-been's, or I could act. I acted.

I got up and went upstairs, slowly. Thinking better of it for a moment, I filled a glass with milk and went upstairs. Mary sometimes needed that to help her sleep, and if Chelsea stopped or saw me at least, I would have an excuse ready, even if it was pretty flimsy. As I got closer, I grew more nervous and around. Sweaty palms were one thing, but nothing could really explain the tent in my boxers right now. I hurried down the hall. Chelsea's door was closed. Thank god. So was Mary's. I took a deep breath, then knocked gently, and entered. It was dark.

"TK," Mary said, her voice quavering, "you came."

"I thought about waiting for you. But I didn't want to take the chance that you wouldn't."

She laughed and pulled her covers up a little more as if shy.

"I would have...I just needed to work up the courage."

"But you're made of courage."

"Is that really what you think?"

I sat down on the corner of the bed. My intentions aside, this was nice. Even if Mary didn't want to go farther, I would, somehow, be ok. As long as I still had my sister, everything would be fine.

"It's always what I've thought. You've always been the bravest person that I know."

She'd always been there for me when I was afraid or sad, and while she let me walk my own path, she was never far.

"Now I know you're just saying things so that you get laid. But you know you don't have to flatter me for that."

Mary was looking at me dead in the eyes when she said it, and this time I had to look away as I felt my face flush. She gave a soft giggle, not cruel, but clearly pleased with having this effect on me.

"It's true," I insisted, "remember when you saved me from those bullies back in elementary school?"

"Oh," she admitted, "yeah, but anyone would have done that."

"No, anyone wouldn't. Only someone who really cared about me and loved me would have stood up to three boys by herself and dragged me out of there. I was ready to get beat up, right there in the playground after school. There were no teachers around, and they'd been escalating for a while. They still bulled me a little after that, but it was minor. You scared them."

"Really," Mary said, blushing herself, "I couldn't let them hurt you. You were so scared and, unlike now, you were so much smaller than me. I saw you trying to decide if you should fight or run. You never asked for help, from anyone, even when you needed it. So I decided to be there for you. That's all. I could have just of easily frozen, or ran."

"But you didn't. You walked right in and grabbed my hand and told me to come with you. Ben put his arm out to stop you, but you just walked into it and then punched it, hard. He drew back in pain and before he could say anything you hit him in the face. I remember the blood from his nose."

She smiled a little.

"Yeah, maybe that was pretty great. Brad deserved it. They all did for what they had been doing to you."

"Maybe I'm wrong, maybe you're not made of courage."

"Then what am I made of? Sugar and spice?"

I snorted.

"No," I struggled for the right words, somehow knowing that it was, "You're made of love and quiet strength and depth of devotion that I hadn't truly understood until now."

Her expression changed rapidly. Her eyes were moist.

"TK..."

I didn't let her say anything else before I moved over to her. The sheet fell away revealing the tight shirt and gorgeous black panties she was wearing. She got up on her knees and leaned forward, into my kiss. There was no more holding back, no more reservations. I had come here to fuck my sister, and she wanted nothing less. It didn't occur to me until much later that the way she was dressed was very similar to a model that I had for my phone's wallpaper for quite a while. The combination of simple tight t-shirt and sheer, small panties did something to me. And to see it on her? I was harder than I ever remember being.

Mary didn't just kiss me this time. I was satisfied with moving slowly, but she was driven by need, more profound and older than mine. She pressed her body into mine, and as I instinctively put my hand on her tight ass, she moaned in my ear. I sometimes still hear that noise in my dreams.

I wasn't a virgin, but really, I was pretty woefully inexperienced. I did have one skill, though. I learned to ask what women wanted, and then give it to them. Simple, I know, but so many of my peers didn't understand it.

I pulled away from her kiss just as she got her tongue involved. She moved forward, chasing my mouth, unwilling to stop.

"Hey," I said, panting, "I do need to breathe."

"Breathe later, kiss now," she said, leaning in again. Again I stopped her. She got her "angry older sister look," and I thought she was about to call me a brat.

"I just really needed to ask you something."

She paused in her attack and tilted her head.

"Um...sure...I mean we can slow down if you need to..."

"No. I just wanted to know if you liked it when men went down on you."

She laughed a little bitterly.

"Well, yeah, but not all of them do it, and half of them don't know how to find the clitoris and...ahhh!"

I didn't wait for her to finish before I pushed her onto her back. Determined, I began to pull her panties off. She didn't resist, lifting her trim ass and allowing me to take them more easily. After sliding them down her slender, toned legs, I stopped for a moment and just took in the beautiful sight. She'd trimmed recently, the dark, curly hair was in a wide strip. And god was she wet, her relatively petit labia swollen and dripping. Was she that way for me?

"Do...do you like it?" Mary asked. At first, I thought that she must be joking, but I saw that she was nervous as she looked up ta me.

"You keep getting more beautiful the more of you I see."

Then she bit her lip, and I wasn't paying attention to her face anymore. I moved close enough that I could smell her arousal. I can barely describe the sensation. I'd made women cum before, eaten them out. I was worried my first time because one of my idiot friends had said that pussy smelled like fish and tasted worse. I couldn't believe how wrong he was. But this? This was well beyond that. I don't know if it was because she was my sister, but the scent seemed to be just for me. Simple and pure and musky and promising all kinds of delights. Maybe it was merely because we were, no are, perfect for each other.

I wanted to taste her right away, but I knew not to rush. I wanted to bring her to a nice peak, something she could think of when she was back at college. I kissed her softly on her inner thigh, and she moaned, so loudly that we both laughed.

"I'm sorry," she said.

"I'm not. Keep making those beautiful noises, they let me know I'm doing the right thing."

She nodded, watching me intently, her eyes already glazed over with lust. We should have been concerned about waking Chelsea, but that was far from our minds.

With agonizing slowness, I kissed my way up her thigh, each touch producing a lovely gasp or whimper. She cried out when I finally caressed her petite sex with my tongue. Her taste is with me whenever I am aroused, anymore. She put her hand in my hair then, stroking it. I looked up at her as I moved up to her small, hard clitoris. As I approached it, she put the knuckle of her other hand in her mouth and bit down, desperate to silence herself.

I was glad she did because she was still quite loud. I was lapping her slowly, careful to bring her to the edge but not let her over it. I kissed her and sucked on her clitoris gently and then as she started to tense I went back to her lips. Her hips began to buck, and I seized her thighs, holding her in place.

"P...please..." was all she was able to say and it just made me more ruthless. I knew with absolute certainty what my sister needed as if I was seeing into her heart. She would say more later, but her desperate noises and gasps told me that her lust for me was not recent and that she had fantasized about this moment many times before.

"Fuck...I'm coming...I'm coming on your tongue, TK..."

She reached down and grabbed my right hand, firmly holding it, as if for dear life. I took my left and went under her shirt for the first time. I suppose we were doing things out of order, but neither of us particularly cared. I felt her breast in my hand. I knew it was small, I'd seen how they looked in her shirts, but I didn't expect how firm yet soft it would be, or how I would feel her nipple stiffen in reaction to my palm. I suddenly felt her free hand on mine and thought that somehow I might have gone too far, but instead, she was pushing my hand into her chest with shocking force. I gripped her tighter than I would have dared otherwise as I finally gave up on edging her and aggressively lapped at her clitoris. Her entire back arched, every muscle in her body tense.

I'd made women cum before, sure. I'd even made them cum hard. I'd never done anything like this, and I'm proud of it to this day. She yanked my hand up her body and put it over her mouth as her body spasmed and released, over and over. She was helpless before her orgasm, flexing and almost screaming into my hand. I held it over her mouth firmly, and it seemed to prolong the experience for her, even though it had to have made it harder for her to breathe.

Maybe that was part of the point.

She collapsed, limp. As much as I wanted to fuck her right then, as she was, her panting and sweating convinced me that she might need a little rest. And even if I didn't get to fuck her, it felt right that I should service her, given what she had done for me already.

Besides, it seemed kind of natural to me that a little brother should make his older sister happy like this.

I crawled up the bed to her, and she moved into my arms, even as another aftershock took her. She sobbed a little, then sighed in relief.

"Fuck, TK. You don't know how much I needed that."

"Probably as much as I needed you to...to blow me."

I had trouble saying the words, which is ironic given that the taste of her pussy was on my lips.

"No, TK, I needed that too. I've needed...oh god, this is hard to say. Please hear me out before you judge me too harshly, all right?"

"Mary, I love you. I don't think you're going to shock me at this point."

"All right, but...I won't hold you to that, ok? I'll understand if..if you change your mind. But I need to be honest with you, and I need to do it now before we...before we fuck."

I just nodded, relaxed and interested in where she was going.

"I love you, TK, you know that. And you know I love you more than a big sister is supposed to. I think you feel the same way about me, and that feels so good. It's such a relief to hear you say these things. And the reason why is that I've wanted you for...for a very long time, baby."

She'd never used any pet name to describe me. It was always bro or little brother or TK. Hearing her call me "baby" sent shivers up my spine.

"It started before that first kiss. Before Charly even. I mean, I always loved you, and you loved me, but it was normal, I guess. We were closer than other brothers and sisters because dad was gone and mom didn't care, but still fairly normal. And I've always wanted to protect you from things, even when I knew that I couldn't. When you hit puberty was when things started to change for me."

"I made sure to be there for you. We both have our friends, but I tried to spend time with you as often as I could. I told myself it was because I was just being a good older sister, but that wasn't true. Not at all."

"I'm...I was sick, TK. That's the only way I know how to describe it. I'd started really thinking of you as something like a boyfriend. We spent a lot of time together, watching Netflix, talking about stuff, just reading together. And we cuddled on that couch. The things I did on that couch when you would get back from cross country and just lay against me and fall asleep. I touched myself, TK. I did it without your permission or knowledge. I did it thinking about what your cock looked like, or what your hand would feel like on my pussy. I was obsessed. But I knew it was wrong. And I knew that if I acted on my feelings, that there would be some kind of punishment. Even if we weren't caught, I knew that something bad would happen."
"Then I stupidly brought my friends over to hang out one day, and you met Charly. You don't know how angry I was with myself and her and even you. I was jealous, TK. I was jealous that that girl with the blonde hair and the confidence and the big fucking tits had her hands all over my little brother. Because that's how I thought of you. In moments of weakness, it's still how I think of you. As my property. When I was at college sometimes, I'd think about the girl you were hugging in some facebook post and wonder if she'd felt you inside her, stretching her out, making her cry your name and I'd get so frustrated and sad. Anyway, that's...not the point."

"I knew what Charly was like, and I told her to take care of you. To never hurt you. I told her that if she wanted to break up with you, that was one thing, but if she misled you, then I would never forgive her. And she did mislead you. I figured that out afterward, from talking to you, and our mutual friends. She got you going, fucked you, and then got tired of you. Rather than just break up with you face-to-face she had to find someone else and dump you with a text."

"She didn't cheat on you, and that's...good, I guess. But I was so angry. Before you two broke up, she told me, and incidentally our other friends, over lunch, that she'd taken your virginity and it was all I could do not to slam her head into the table. I mean, I didn't think that she should be flippant about it, but...it still wasn't healthy. I wanted to be your first. It didn't matter that I'd already slept with someone, too."

"That night when I came home and saw that you were sad, I knew something had happened. I made you dinner first because I knew that you wouldn't be up to it. I went upstairs to talk to you. We kissed, for the first time, and oh god was it nice. But I wanted more, and I almost did it. I made my hands behave, but I wanted them all over you. You were vulnerable, and you needed me, as a big sister, as someone you could trust, and I could barely resist taking advantage of you."

"Even now...I want to turn you on by telling you this. I'm confessing to you, and I feel guilty, but I'm also secretly hoping that this ends any resolve you might have left, that you'll fuck me tonight. Its what I want, but I still know that I'm sick. Anyway...I cut Charly off after that. If I had been a better friend I would have been there for her too, would have warned her away, but I hated her at that moment. She used you, TK, and then left you. You look confused. Let me explain."

Mary sighed, deeply. It was clear to me that she'd been holding on to this guilt, these feelings, for such a long time. I had no idea. I mean, I knew that she cared about me and that she loved me. And of course there was that first kiss, but...I just kind of assumed it was an expression of how worried she was, and that I was the one with the weird attraction. She wasn't done.

"We all knew Bradly was an asshole. Even Charly did. For her, that was part of the appeal. You've always known that the stereotype that girls go after assholes isn't real, but for Charly, it seemed to hold true. She knew enough about how awful he was and the kind of risks that he took. But he had money to flash and looked kind of cute, so she gave him a shot. She could always leave him for someone else, right?"

"I know that you stopped talking to Charly, and no-one could blame you. I think my friends expected me to ask them to cut her off, but I didn't bother. I just stopped hanging out with her and told her that she was an awful human being and deserved Bradley. Looking back if I had wanted to truly punish her I guess I wouldn't have done any different."

"I don't want to insult you, TK, but you were still a bit naive back then. You kind of assumed that Bradley was just another rich kid. He wasn't. He was one of the first people to openly deal opiates here. It isn't the kind of dangerous trash loaded with Fentanyl that's out there now, it was morphine. Who knows how he got it in the first place, but it seemed to be everywhere. That's how Bradley got laid, mostly. He traded that for sex. But with Charly, he just gave it to her for free, until she was hooked."

"I should have yelled at her, TK. Even though I hated her, I should have done...something. I know some of my friends tried. But by that point, it was too late. She got hooked, and couldn't leave him, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. No job, no degree, her parents kicked her out so she wouldn't influence her little brother and sisters. She was his, completely. It got ugly. Eventually, he went to jail, and she went to rehab. I lost touch with her after that."

I was confused.

"Wait, are you saying that you knew that he would do that to her? Is that what this is about?"

"No, I mean, I didn't. I guess I would have done something had I known. I know you would have wanted me to, even if you hated Charly as much as me. But I got some satisfaction out of it, of seeing her fall. When I heard that she was kicked out of her parent's house, I laughed. I felt like it was karma for what she'd done to you."

"That's fucked up, Mary. She left me for a dickhead, but its high school. Shit like that happens all the time."

I guess I had a much healthier perspective on things then, but it wasn't exactly fair to Mary. I could see the passion and guilt warring in her eyes. There was no doubt that she was utterly in love with me. It was flattering, and I was happy because I'd just discovered the same feelings for her, but I'd be lying if it wasn't frightening in its intensity.

"I know. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I'm sick. I know it. I tried not to love you, I really did, and then I tried to hide it, or control my feelings. I've done a horrible job of it. I've had cute girls come up to me and ask about you, you know? Are you available? Would you like to go out with them? All I had to do was tell you. Hell, I didn't even have to do that, I could have just encouraged them to approach you. But I was cold. I couldn't stand the idea of them touching you or kissing you or...fucking you. I tried to stop loving you, but I just got more frustrated."

"I thought leaving for college would make it better, but it hasn't. I wondered about you, worried about you. I've called you far too often, you must be annoyed with that. And, fuck. I get home in a crisis, and you're tired and vulnerable and fucked up. I should have hugged you, but instead, I kissed you, TK. And then I sucked your dick. And I loved it. I don't want to drive you away. I really don't. But I have to be honest. If...if you go to this next step with me, this is who you'd be taking. A jealous, selfish older sister who has put her heart and her pussy before your best interests."

She stopped and looked away, her eyes filled with tears. She was completely open to me, laid bare by the truth, as she saw it. I could almost see her emotions, raw and seething. Part of her wanted me to go. Part of her wanted me to tell her what a sick bitch she was. And the last part just plain wanted me. I'd never really felt that I was the leader in our relationship before. But I did then.

"Mary," I said softly, "I don't believe you."

"What, I'm telling the..."

"I know, Mary. I mean, I don't believe that you're selfish or wrong. You don't really think this is completely one-sided, do you? Ever since that kiss I've seen you as an attractive...no...sexy woman. Sophisticated and smart and with a perfect body. I loved you before that and looked up to you, but I really fell for you starting that day. And I wanted it, too. You might be older than I am, but only by two years. You took care of me when I was fucked up over Charly, but you never tried to force yourself on me. You never tried to make me do anything. That kiss the other night, and what you did for me afterward? I wanted it. I needed it. You kept me sane, and for the first time in a long time, I feel loved by a woman, the way I want to be. If you're sick, then I am too. I know what I want, and I'm going to strip that shirt off of you, and take it. Because you want me to."

Mary's eyes glazed over, in a way that I'd never seen before. She sat up and kicked off the sheet, and held her arms up. She made no attempt to take off her shirt, so I did. It was so tight that I had to almost peel it off. As I did, her small breasts and hard nipples popped into my view for the first time. I saw that she almost covered herself reflexively under my gaze, but forced her hands to fall to her sides. She looked at me in anticipation, and worry.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen, Mary."

"TK...fuck me please," Mary said, laying back and parting her legs for me. She was still wet and swollen from my earlier efforts. She was doing her best to be passive, waiting for her little brother to mount her, but she held out one arm plaintively, and her legs twitched as if demanding the space between them be filled. For the first time in a relationship I felt a responsibility settling on me, the understanding that she loved me unconditionally and if I wasn't careful I could break her heart.

I moved over her, silently and slowly. I slid my hand up her smooth leg and thigh to the side of her belly. She was thin, and not really toned. This isn't meant as a complaint, just that I guess, like me, I knew that she wasn't perfect, but I also knew that she was the ideal woman for me and that after this no one else would compare. I was above her now, my hand moving gently over her breast, squeezing it and pulling on her nipple gently.

"Fuck, TK, please...I need..."

Mary was panting now and had one hand on my shoulder and one on my side. She'd hooked one of her beautiful legs around my flank and was trying to pull me to her with desperate urgency. I resisted, moving slowly. I wanted her to be in need. I wanted her to be in such anticipation that it might hurt. I wasn't trying to torture her, but I sensed that maybe this would bring her to the heights she needed.

She opened her mouth to plead again, but at that moment my hard cock brushed against her willing slit. She moaned, and her hand moved to her mouth, reflexively. I ran my hand through her hair and cradled her head, gently. She locked eyes with me as my head entered her. I felt the line being crossed almost as physically as I felt myself stretching her out.

"Fuck," I said, my turn to curse at how good this felt. She suddenly pitched her head forward into my chest and bit down, silencing the wail of pleasure that she had involuntarily let out. She clutched at me helplessly, her expertly decorated nails digging into my back, both of her legs wrapping themselves around my waist. I knew that if I moved too fast that we would both regret it, but she didn't care anymore. She needed me to fill her, and she didn't care if I hurt her doing it.

Eventually, agonizingly slowly for both of us, I bottomed out inside her. She stopped biting my chest and looked up at me apologetically, but she had hurt me in the way I liked. I started to move, and her head thrashed back as I left and returned, forcefully, making her arch her back and roll her hips in pleasure. I could feel the first orgasm moving through her already, almost unbelievably. Now I wonder how many times she'd thought of this very scenario, aching for her little brother to fulfill her most guarded desires.

God help me I fucked my older sister one room away from our little sister, and I loved every second of it. I'd never felt anyone so willing or tight or grasping at my cock. Every time I pulled out, she would gasp or whimper. Every time I returned she would moan as if for the first time. I'd never even known that a woman this exciting to fuck existed.

Mary lost control, shaking in the grasp of an orgasm, desperately holding on to me. She looked at me, lost in the moment. Right before she screamed, I covered her mouth with my hand. She thrashed even harder, my hand seeming to arouse her to new heights of pleasure. I didn't understand it, but I was amazed at how hard she had cum already.

And we'd just gotten started.

Mary smiled at me and then groaned as I kept fucking her, harder now. I couldn't stop. This wasn't like Charly, fumbling in the dark for a few minutes before; hopefully, both of us got off. This was well beyond that. I knew what my sister needed, as if by magic, and I needed to give it to her. There's no easy way to explain it.

What Mary needed right then was to be fucked, and hard. She needed to see the fervent desire in my eyes, feel it bruising her inside. And then she needed to feel my cum filling her. Nothing less would do.

Then again, maybe that's just what I told myself. In any case, when I slammed into Mary, paying no attention to her well being, just taking her and claiming her with the violence of instinct, she responded. She bit my neck and clawed my back. She moaned and whimpered. Her beautiful legs always pulled me deeper into her. She was smaller than I was and thin, almost waifish, but she took every bit of what I gave without complaint, and it seemed like her eyes were always demanding more.

Mary had cum at least once more, her tight warmth spasming around me before I reached the point of no return. She felt me getting ready, heard my grunts grow in intensity. She used her body to draw it out of me, to make it harder for me to resist. I wanted to cum, of course, but I also wanted to hold out a bit longer. She wasn't having any of that. Throughout this experience, we'd both made noise, but been mostly wordless. It seemed everything that needed to have been said was behind us, but now, for the first time, she proved that she knew how to drive me wild with her words alone.

"TK, I need you to fill me. I need it. I need it now. Please. Please, fill me, little brother. I need your seed inside of me..."

I'd seen dirty talk on porn, but none of that could have prepared me for the effect of hearing those simple words whispered desperately into my ear. I exploded. I'm sure I almost shouted. I'd never felt anything like it before. I swelled and pulsed inside of her, filling her with my warm cum. It felt like it went on, forever, and at the end, my balls ached.

I almost fell on her after that but managed to roll off of her before resting. She moaned as I pulled out of her and turned onto my chest smoothly as if she couldn't bear being apart from me for even a second. The look on her face was alien to me, and I did not recognize it at first. Only after my breath had slowed some and my thoughts began to form again did I realize that it was adoration.

In just another moment Mary had started to cry. I saw in her eyes a message of love but also worry that I would misinterpret her tears as being negative. I didn't. I shed no tears, but I was at least as overwhelmed by emotion as she was. I kept my arm tightly around her.

* * *

Mary stayed for another week but she had to go back to school eventually. Every night grew a little more passionate, a little more intense. We were exploring new sides of each other.

I worried that Chelsea would figure things out, but she seemed to just be happy to have both of us around and to be in her own house again. I did everything I could to normalize her life, getting her to her clubs and events, making meals, and ensuring that she was able to hang out with her friends when she wanted to. It was hectic, but not as tricky as I would have thought.

Rebecca woke up. It wasn't like the movies. She wasn't out one day and fine the next. She was confused and asking for Dad at first, and then Chelsea. Then she went out again. We visited her more often, and she seemed more lucid each time. There were no guarantees, but the doctors were optimistic. She would remain in the hospital for an indeterminate time, however. Her legs were still bad enough to not provide a prognosis on walking just yet.

Mary had gone, but we stayed in touch. I felt alone, but also hopeful. Rebecca would heal. Chelsea would have the support she needed. All would be well. Such is the faith of the innocent.

* * *

"I've got an internship, and it's only like twenty miles from home!"

"That's fantastic. Does that mean..."

"Yeah, I'm going to be around all summer long. I guess that means we're going to be spending a lot of time together, little brother."

I couldn't stop a goofy grin from spreading on my face.

"That's great!"

Her face fell a little.

"Well, it's not all good news. I'm going to be really busy during the days. I wanted to help out with Rebecca and Chelsea, but I won't really be available that often."

"Don't worry about that. Mom and I can handle it. I'm really looking forward to having you around again."

"Oh, you're going to having me all right," she said, a ridiculously lewd expression on her face.

"You're such a fucking pervert."

"You know you love me."

"I do love you. A lot."

Her expression turned serious and then softened a bit.

"I know. I love you too. I don't like being separated from you anymore. It feels...unnatural somehow."

"I get that. I feel like a part of me is missing. I don't know what we're going to do when we graduate..."

"I've got some ideas about that, but they can wait until I see you in person. Shit, I gotta run, I have a late class. Can I call you tonight?"

"Of course," I said, smiling. Our late night Skypes were pretty fucking spicy.

She blew me a kiss and ended the call.

* * *

Mary came home for a few weekends, which was a pleasant surprise. It was hard for her, because of the distance traveled, and I think Mom helped with the costs. We had lots of sex, of course, but she mostly focused on helping out, giving me some rest time, and hanging out with Chelsea.

The best thing to happen for all of us over the last months of Spring was Rebecca's continued recovery. She was able to leave the hospital and return home. I stayed with them for a few weeks still, as Rebecca had outpatient physical therapy and wasn't able to drive herself right away. By the time summer came around, I was able to move back home. Fortunately, mom and I had started speaking again by then, and she'd even apologized for not taking Chelsea in, to both her and me. I hadn't expected it, but it was welcome.

Graduation brought some bad news too. And old friend of mine that had moved to a nearby town and different school a few years back overdosed and died, just one more casualty in our small community. Still, it didn't affect me as much as it could have, as I hadn't really kept in touch.

And then came Summer.

Mary drove home, which took her an extra day, but she needed to bring home almost all of her things. Unsurprisingly, I could barely contain my excitement. Before we fucked, she was undoubtedly the most important person to me. After our forbidden union I had real difficulty expressing, even to myself, what her role was in my life.

Maybe she felt the same, but the dirty selfies she took at bathrooms and rest stops as she traveled left me with no doubt whatsoever what her intentions were when she arrived. We'd had sex each time she'd visited for the weekend, but that had been less than once a month, and they'd been mostly improvised and vanilla sessions. In contrast, I could almost feel the heat coming from her texts. And they were suggestive in ways that almost scared me a little.

I'm going to mark you all over your body, so you know you're mine.

Is it wrong that I just got wet thinking about pegging my little brother?

I kind of want you to leave your cum in all three of my holes.

I knew that she was teasing me. Working me up. It was another carryover from our prior relationship. I also knew that she wasn't lying, either. Each remark was a promise. She'd do it or permit it if I wanted it. I was hard constantly for those two days.
Ironically, I didn't notice she'd pulled in the driveway until I heard the doorbell ringing. Mom was out for the evening helping Rebecca shop, and I was engrossed in the video game I was playing. I opened the door to discover a smiling Mary, carrying far too many boxes. I took them from her quickly and set them inside the door. She came in, and I kicked the door closed.

"Hey if you help me unload we can..."

That's as far as I let her get. I'd been distracting myself all day, getting more and more worked up. Generally, Mary took charge, but not always. I pinned her to the door with my body, kissing her intensely, my hand under her shirt and finding her small breasts. She moaned into my mouth as I pinched her nipples, a little harder than I intended. She still seemed to be a bit in shock when my other hand began to unbutton her tight jeans.

"Now?" She breathed.

"Now," I replied, almost growling.

I spun her around, and she put her hands on the door instinctively. She might have been surprised, but she knew what was coming. I pulled her jeans and panties down harshly then unzipped myself and released my cock. It was almost painfully sensitive. I pulled her hips towards me, bending her over further.

For one moment showing a degree of both patience and care, I slid my hand between Mary's thighs and into her slick and swollen folds. She gasped. I pulled my finger out equally quickly

"God you're so fucking wet already, aren't you?"

"Don't...don't you want to go to bed first?"

Mary asked the question but didn't make any effort to resist or move away. She was as eager as I was. I answered her query by forcefully, if somewhat slowly, entering her. She cried out, in pleasure. Sometimes she loved being smaller than her little brother and one of those times was when I was stretching her out around my cock.

"Fuck," I swore involuntarily as I was reminded of just how good my older sister felt. I refocused myself. I had a need, but I didn't want to cum right away. Mary whimpered in need, and it brought me back to myself. I started fucking her. I wasn't gentle.

"TK!"

That was all she got out before her vocalizations devolved into moans and cries of pleasure. I slammed into her, faster and faster, our bodies making an incredibly lewd wet slap with each stroke. We usually had to be quiet, slow, and soft-voiced. That was fine sometimes, but I needed Mary, now, and I wasn't going to hold back.

I usually liked to get her off first on my fingers or tongue, because she needed direct stimulation to cum. This time I heard her voice halt and catch, her breathing grow difficult. I knew she was close. I reached around her for her clit and stroked it as gently as possible given how hard I was fucking her. She cried out once, twice, shuddering, leaning into the door on her elbows as I pushed her forward. Her knees wobbled, and I gripped her tightly around the waist now, even lifting her up off the ground a little. I heard her voice, low and tired.

"...please...TK...fill me.."

I was beyond control. I slammed into Mary, buried myself deep within, and released myself. I felt my seed pump into her again and again and imagined her womb overflowing with it. Finally, I finished. I set her down, then kept holding her weight up as I helped pull her panties and jeans back up. She was still a little shaky, I noticed with pride. She got to the sofa and sat down, hard.

"Well...um...hello to you too..."

She was still breathing heavily. So was I but I felt invigorated by the quick and hard fuck. I walked over and kissed her head.

"Hi. Why don't you rest a minute while I bring the rest of the boxes in?"

I unloaded the car pretty quickly, and by the time I was done, Mom's car had pulled into the driveway behind Mary's. I guess I was lucky with my bet that she wouldn't be home until Mary and I were done with our quick fuck. She wasn't staying out quite as late or going out drinking as often, but she still had the occasional bender. Tonight she had come home right after work.

When Mom walked in behind me, Mary glared at me accusingly for a split second, although even then with a smile. She was the risk-taker, and I was the follower. I think she just wasn't accustomed to the role-reversal. I winked at her.

"Wow, you look beat," Mom said, pressing her hand to Mary's forehead, "are you sure you aren't coming down with something?"

"Yeah," I said helpfully, "you looked really shaky coming in. Did something happen?"

"I think," Mary said carefully, "that I'm just a little tired after the trip. I'm not sick or anything. TK was so helpful at the door. He got me right off...my feet and then insisted on unloading the car."

I noted her conspicuous pauses and emphasis. She was happily playing my game of secrets and innuendo. And god did she look beautiful with the flush in her face that she always got after a hard fuck.

"Well, what a good brother you are, taking care of your big sister like that."

Mary barely stifled a laugh. I was just happy that Mom was sober when she'd come home. It really seemed like she was trying to make some changes in her life. I knew that at least one night a week she was going to yoga, which was brand new too.

The night was wonderful. It was as good as I could remember it ever being between Mary, Mom, and me. We joked and laughed over dinner like a regular family. Mom made chicken and pasta, simple and delicious Sure, it glosses over the rough spots of our childhood, but it was beautiful. Mom was even asking Mary all kinds of questions; the right ones, about school and even dating.

"Why don't you have someone to bring home to us yet, Mary?"

"I guess I just haven't met the right person," Mary answered with an innocent look as her foot traveled up the inside of my leg. God, she was so enticing.

"Maybe you just need to look closer to home," I said provocatively, and she answered with a smirk.

"Oh, god, no," Mom objected, missing the innuendo, "the men in this town are just awful. Present company excluded. You know...that's what you should look for in a man. Someone dependable, smart, trustworthy. Like your brother."

At this Mary and I looked at each other and we couldn't help it. The laughter bubbled out of us, infectious. Soon we were both doubled over. Mom rolled her eyes at us, assuming some kind of inside joke, but she still smiled. It made her happy to see her children happy.

And we were both very happy. For the moment, anyway.

* * *

Summer went on. Mary's internship kept her busy during the day, but the nights were ours. Even when mom was home, one of us would sneak into the other's room, and we'd spend a few incredible hours exploring each other and expanding our boundaries. She didn't peg me, but she did push her finger in my asshole while she blew me...with was terrific. She'd played a bit, but it turned out that she'd never had anyone in her ass before either, aside from the occasional finger, and she hinted that she wanted that to be special for me, and me alone.

Mary did get weekends off, and we hung out more. It was like old times, but also very different. We didn't just fuck, but we explored ourselves. We watched movies together and went on walks deep on forest trails, where we felt safe enough to hold hands and make out. We hung out with Chelsea and Rebecca. We reminisced and talked about idle planning for the future. She was resting in my arms at the moment. Mom was out, and it was the first of July.

"God...if we could find a way to live together...after college, but be on our own? That would be amazing."

It was something she'd expressed several times to me, and I think I knew what she wanted to hear, but I was very young, and the idea of permanent commitment scared me, even if I knew I loved Mary in many ways.

"Like right after college?"

My voice must have sounded a bit nervous, which I could tell annoyed her, but her gaze softened. She was like that, then. She could still be possessive, but she restrained the worst part.

"I'm sorry. I know...we're both just getting started. And...if you need to, you know...see other people...I'll wait. I just don't see myself with anyone else, TK. And it just feels right, to be with you like this. I wish we could be public with it, but it would ruin both our lives. I do want this to last."

"I don't want to date other people. The idea of settling down and owning a house and starting something like a new family? That honestly frightens me a little. I do see myself with you, though, whatever happens."

"That's fair. I don't have any illusions though. Maybe...maybe the kind of relationship I want isn't exactly the same as what you want. But I'll work with you as much as I can. If we live apart and only get a day a week together, I'll be happy. I just really want you in my life...and me, as much as possible."

Then she turned around and began to kiss me. Mom was just upstairs napping in the early evening, and it was dangerous for her to do this. We were getting more daring, however, and we might have tried to have careful sex if it hadn't been for my phone buzzing insistently. We both jumped and laughed. I had been about to put my hand down Mary's pants.

The mood was broken a little, so I looked at the message. It was an invitation from a friend.

"Hey," I said, "you want to go to a party?"

"Really? Where?"

"You remember Nolan? He's back home for the summer, and he's having something for the fourth. Probably just beer, weed. His things are low key, though there tend to be a lot of people there."

"Do you think he'd want your older sister showing up?"

I snorted.

"He'd never deny a pretty girl, and you're gorgeous."

She rolled her eyes but smiled.

"Well...ok. Yeah, I think it could be fun."

I sent a text saying I'd show up with her. For a second after I worried about men hitting on Mary, maybe stronger, more attractive and mature ones, but then I got ahold of myself. Her devotion to me was, to be honest, a little frightening. I felt awful doubting her for even a second. And we both tended to go light on alcohol, the chief enabler of bad decisions, because of what we saw it do to our Mom.

It would be good, wholesome fun for both of us.

* * *

The evening before the party was kind of fun in and of itself. Mary kept on trying progressively more risqué outfits, tight shorts from years prior, tiny shirts, skirts that were too short even when she was in high school. She looked gorgeous in all of them and was clearly getting a thrill out of teasing me. In the end, she just went with a simple black dress, which was, to be honest, still pretty short and extremely hot.

We arrived pretty early on, but not so early that we felt like dorks. Nolan, who talked like a bro but was more of a relaxed and intelligent stoner, was unsurprisingly happy to see Mary. Almost immediately he began to charm her in his over-the-top but also hilarious fashion. The fact that he took off his baseball cap and smoothed his dark red hair indicated his serious intent. She rolled her eyes but engaged immediately.

"Day-yum who is this lovely woman? Where has TK been hiding you?"

"Mostly at college," Mary remarked dryly.

"Well, he needs to bring you home more often. Damn you look good."

"I try to get her to come home as often as possible," I interjected.

"Try harder. We need more quality talent around here."

"Talent?" Mary inquired icily, "Whatever do you mean by that, Nolan?"

Nolan sputtered, and I laughed. I decided to mingle, leaving him to his fate. Mary would not stop until he was significantly embarrassed by himself. I'd seen it before.

The night went on. Men flirted with Mary, as expected, and she was nice but didn't go beyond that. Some of her old friends were here, and I could tell that made her happy. I got to see some friends who were heading to distant colleges soon, and it was cool to catch up before they left. I got distracted. That's probably why I didn't see her standing there.

"Hey, TK."

I turned around, smiling. I knew who it was, right away, from the shy voice.

"Hey, Tina, are you finally old enough for Nolan to let you into these things?"

Tina rolled her eyes. She was about a year and a half younger than I was. She was more cute than hot, dark red hair like her brother, freckles everywhere, short and skinny. She was also Nolan's little sister. Something that he never failed to remind his male friends of if they ever got too handsy. Speaking of which, she too-casually put her hand on my arm while she spoke. She was drinking beer, which may have been the source of her confidence.

"It's...really good to see you. I was hoping that you'd be here. Since...since your dad died we never really talk anymore."

"I know. I'm sorry about that. I've been kind of overwhelmed. There's been a lot of changes in my life."

"Oh, I know. I didn't mean to blame you or anything. I saw your mom, and she told me what you've been doing for Chelsea and your step-mother. That's really amazing of you. I don't know anyone else who would have done that."

She spoke with the wide-eyed sincerity of those in puppy love. She'd had a crush on me for years, but never more than that. I was somewhat amused that now was the moment she chose to act on it.

"I think you would probably do the same. How have you been?"

"Good! I think my grades are going to be strong enough to get into Princeton...probably."

"I don't think any of us had any doubt."

"Nolan tells me that you weren't sure if you would have to postpone college..."

"I'm staying local, so hopefully it won't be an issue. Mom has been helping out too when she can."

"That's good...maybe we can hang out more?"

Tina bit her lip hopefully, and it was easy to see her developing into a beautiful young woman. She just wasn't the right one for me. I continued to talk to her, but I kept things light and dodged her advances. I might need to have a more serious conversation with her at some point, but given that she was maturing quickly, I expected her to meet someone available before anything got out of hand. She took my hints and maybe looked a little disappointed that I didn't respond to her advances, but we ended on friendly terms.

She finally left to go talk to some friends of hers that had just arrived. I took advantage of the break to look for Mary. I found her quickly and she met my eyes with a cold glare as she stalked over towards me. For a moment I was confused as to why she was so angry. Had someone touched her inappropriately? Was I going to have to fight someone?

Mary grabbed my arm and pulled me to the far end of Nolan's pool, which was relatively quiet and isolated.

"What the fuck was that?"

"What?"

"That thing...with Tina. The long conversation with the laughing and the touching...and you making eyes at each other."

"Wait...are you jealous?"

"How could I not be? You did that right in front of me? Were you trying to work me up?"

I wanted to touch her arm, to soothe her, but I could tell that wasn't the way to go. If Mary thought I was patronizing her, she'd blow up, and I'd have a hard time explaining why I was having a lover's quarrel with my sister. She was at least granting me the courtesy of being direct, so I returned the favor.

"Take a fucking breath, Mary. Think, just a moment, about who you're talking to."

She blinked, not expecting my reaction. I didn't let her speak again.

"Tina has had a crush on me since I was ten. It's adorable, and she's great but I've never been anything but friendly and kind to her, and I'm not planning on changing that tonight. Yes, this was the strongest she's ever come on, but I'm pretty s sure it's her first beer, and when I didn't respond to her advances she backed right off. Do you think I came here with you so I could, what? Hookup with other girls? Is that why you're here? To pick up guys in front of me?"

She was calm now. Abashed. Whatever had taken hold of her had left just as swiftly as it had arrived.

"No...that would be awful. I'd never do anything like that to you. And I know that you wouldn't do that either."

Mary was unsure now, her arms wrapped around her chest. She bit her lip nervously.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up, ok? What we have is...its different. I worried a little about guys hitting on you, too."

"That's not the same. You didn't go crazy. I don't know...I guess...I guess now that we're together I'm afraid of losing you. I'm sorry, TK."

"We can go if you want. I don't mind spending the rest of the evening with you. I've caught up with most everyone."

It was early, maybe eleven, but everyone knew that both of us had busy schedules. No one would question us leaving first. I made our apologies to Nolan and put up with his comments, but he also quietly told me to call if I ever needed anything. He'd been a good friend. Tina looked at me, maybe a little mournfully, but she smiled too. For just a moment, she looked at Mary with a funny expression and then back at me. I worried for a moment that we'd given ourselves away somehow, but she went back to her conversation with her other friends.

We got in the car together, and we were both silent as I pulled away from the curb. It wasn't tense or awkward, but I will admit that Mary's sudden attack of jealousy had concerned me. I worried about what she had truly been feeling while we had been separated this semester. She'd only indicated that she'd been missing me, but surely this jealousy wasn't new.

I was distracted by Mary's hand on the crotch of my jeans, systematically moving up and down, making my cock harden rapidly. I kept my eyes on the road, with difficulty. It was dark and close to the fourth. There would already be drunks out, and I did not want to repeat what happened to Dad.

"Fuck, Mary...that feels good."

"Good. I'm really sorry for how I was at the party. I don't expect you to forgive me right away...but maybe I could make it up to you?"

Yeah. I wanted that.

"They say you should never let the sun set on an argument. Oh god, slow down. I don't want to cum in my pants."

Mary laughed, high and light and promising sensual delight. My sister had great power over me, and I didn't mind one bit.

"You won't cum in your pants. And if you did, I'd just work harder to get you off the next time. Once we get home, I'm going to ride you, little brother, the way you like. I'm going to claim you, and you're going to know you're mine. And then we'll see."

Up to that moment, I knew that I enjoyed it when Mary "took charge," but I'd never thought of myself as submissive. Now, though...the idea of her taking me? The images it produced in my mind were vivid and confusing. Weren't men supposed to be doing the taking? I wasn't experienced enough to know how naive I still was.

We pulled in the driveway to find our mother's car was still gone. She'd been mostly good, but she'd apparently decided to party tonight as well. I was worried about her, but honestly, I just wanted to get to the part where Mary was fucking me.

As soon as I closed the door I reached for my sister, but she danced out of my grasp, giggling.

"I need you, Mary. Really fucking bad."

"I know. I'm not teasing you. Go shower, and then come to my room, ok? I've got some special things there that I bought while I was away. I've been saving them for the right moment. I think this is it."

I stood there, my mind racing at the possibilities. I hurried up the stairs, shedding clothing as I went. I heard Mary's laughter behind me, but I didn't mind if it amused her. This new idea...of her riding me harshly, let's face it, dominating me, had triggered something deep inside. Maybe I should have been worried given what had happened earlier, but I trusted her, thoroughly and deeply.

After I was done showering and (mostly) dry, I walked into Mary's room in nothing but a towel and a smile. I did not expect what I saw.
On the bed were two items: a silk blindfold and a pair of very shiny handcuffs. I know that this is, in the grand scheme of things, pretty vanilla for BDSM, but I could feel myself tenting the towel, and I knew that I was already leaking pre-cum. I felt a little ashamed before I looked at Mary.

She'd put her hair up, probably to get it out of the way, but it made her look more sophisticated and in charge. She'd traded her black dress for a small leather bustier and black fishnets. She wore no panties, and the tops of her nipples were barely revealed. She would have laughed at me if I had said it out loud, but right then she looked like a goddess, divine and terrible.

She gestured towards the bed.

"Lay face down and put your hands behind you."

I could have resisted, maybe been a little uppity. I know that's what some people are like. But in that situation, I felt all urges to fight drop away. I sunk into a dim place in my mind. All was dark except for my sister and her implements. All was quiet save her voice. I did what she asked, without question.

I felt her straddling my back, legs on either side of my ass. Did I feel the faintest hint of wet heat? I felt her hands, firm but gentle, moving my wrists into position. This was followed by the cold touch of steel and the click of the handcuffs locking in place, much louder in the small room.

I whimpered, despite my self. I'm not sure that I ever had before. I certainly hadn't noticed. I felt embarrassed and exposed, which aroused me further. I felt my sister's hand caressing my back, slowly working its way to my ass and squeezing it a proprietary way.

"Fuck."

"What was that, TK? Are you having trouble concentrating? Maybe in a little need?"

She was teasing, but also promising.

"Yes."

"Mmm. And what should be done about it?"

It took me a moment to answer, my thoughts felt like molasses.

"Um. I think...I think you should fuck me. Please."

"Mmm. Very polite. Good boy."

The way she said good boy sent a shiver of pleasure down my spine. But she still left me there, lying face down.

"Soon, please. I need you so badly."

"In a minute. I'm just admiring how sexy you are like this. Helpless. At my mercy. Why, I could do anything I wanted, and you really couldn't stop me, could you?"

Now I'm painfully aware of our lack of a safe word, but then, I just felt fear and desire and an overwhelming drive to please Mary. She wanted to look at me so I would be still and patient. She kept straddling me but moved up, so she was sitting on my back. She ran her fingers through my hair and then gripped it and pulled, hard. God help me, I moaned.

"Keep your head up," she commanded, releasing me. All I could do is nod. There was a certain anger in her voice, a dim echo of what she had shown before, at the party.

I had forgotten about the black silk blindfold. Soon it was expertly tied my head; not too tight, but bound close enough that no light entered my field of vision. I felt her breath at my ear, and a shiver of reaction ran over my whole body.

"You're mine," she whispered, and my cock ached in need. I couldn't respond.

Then, her weight was gone, and she rolled me over onto my back. I not only didn't resist, but I also did everything I could to help. I felt her small hand graze my cock and I bucked my hips up, trying to get her to grip it, touch it, taste it...anything.

She laughed, cold and clear. For a moment I thought that she would leave me like that, helpless and suffering.

"I'd let you into my mouth, but I'm afraid you wouldn't last."

Then, finally, she straddled me. I groaned as she slid her wet slit up and down my cock.

"Please!"

I was desperate to be inside her, I felt that I would die unless I came inside her.

"Oh? Do you want your older sister's cunt? Beg for it."

"Please, Mary. Please let me have your...your cunt."

At last, I felt her take my cock and angle it...and then a slick wet warmth engulfed me. She wasn't slow, which surprised me. She yelped in a mix of pleasure and pain as she let gravity force me up inside her. She needed me as much as I needed her.

I still moaned louder than that, shameless in my want.

She began to ride me. Up and down, hips rolling, achingly slow. I felt her hands on my chest for balance, but she began to pinch my nipples, hard. I cried out.

"Good boy."

"Fuck...please, I can't..."

"What?"

"I can't...I'm so turned on, Mary. You're going to make me cum before..."

"Oh, don't worry about me. You just hold your orgasm back until I say."

"Mary...I'm so fucking close..."

A sting on my face and a loud crack. She'd...she'd slapped me. Fuck it hurt. I knew that I should have been upset, outraged that she did that without asking first. But it just made me drop deeper within myself. I existed for Mary. Only for her. I could hold out as long as she demanded.

"Don't cum until I say, TK. I mean it."

Her voice was hoarse with need. She was so close. I could wait until she came. But she told me not to worry about her. She increased her speed, and I whimpered, but I didn't cum. She leaned over me, and I felt her small breasts press into my chest as she kissed my lips, face, and neck, but I didn't cum.

"Only a little bit more...and then you can cum..."

She was having difficulty speaking. She was on the edge of a big orgasm. I felt something deep inside me, terrified. I locked it away behind blind trust and love. I knew that she would let me cum. I knew that Mary would always protect me.

"Say...that you're mine..."

"I'm yours, Mary. I've always been yours."

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and she began to shudder, her orgasm was almost there. That's when I felt her hands around my throat.

First, the pressure was light, and I liked it. Then it was heavier, and I had trouble breathing, and I loved it. Then I felt Mary's thumbs at the sides of my neck, and I felt myself pass into semi-consciousness. Euphoria passed over me. I was full of sensation. My cock was on fire, and I could hear her, dimly, crying out as she came.

"Cum, baby, cum now!"

I felt my back arch, and my hips buck, and I was in the midst of the best orgasm of my life. On the edge of pleasure and pain, of life and death, I let myself go inside Mary and filled her with my seed.

Then I passed out.

* * *

"Fuck baby, wake up, ok? Wake up!"

"Oh...god..."

I was still on my back, hands bound behind me, but the blindfold was off. Mary's face, full of concern bordering on terror was above mine. It quickly changed to relief. She cradled my head next to her chest.

"I'm sorry, babe. I did it for too long. I looked up how to do it safely, but I saw how you looked and felt with my hands around your throat, and I came, and I lost control. Just for a second. I didn't push harder, but I went too long. How do you feel?"

"Um. Amazing. Relaxed. Loved. That was intense. How long was I out?"

"Maybe twenty or thirty seconds? It felt like hours. For a moment, I thought I killed you."

"You didn't though. You made me feel good..."

She smiled down at me.

"I thought you might like it. I thought I was prepared. I did the right stuff. I kept your windpipe safe. I cut the blood off. But I could have really hurt you."

Her smile disappeared as she considered what she was saying.

"But you didn't. Oh god, I want to do that again, soon."

"Didn't you hear me?"

"Yeah, but I'm ok. You did really well, and I loved it. I trust you completely."

She leaned over and kissed my forehead.

"That's what worries me. Ok. Let's get you out of those cuffs."

I rolled over, and she removed them smoothly and efficiently.

"You must have practiced that a lot."

"Of course. You need to be able to let someone go fast if something goes wrong. Like it almost did."

I rolled back over and settled on the pillow, still in a deeply relaxed state.

"Don't beat yourself up about it. It was wonderful. I love you."

"I love you too. I'm going to get you some water, and you just stay right there ok? Don't move. I'll get you cleaned up."

I was more than happy to obey her instructions. She came back and handed me a glass of cold water and cleaned me lovingly, looking at me with darting eyes when she thought I wouldn't notice.

"I'm fine, Mary. Stop worrying. It was fantastic, and we'll know to be more careful next time."

"Next time! Jesus, TK, are you sure you want that after what happened?"

I nodded.

"Ok...well...I loved it too. I just don't want you to get hurt, you know? But it was so intense. Not just the power but all of the trust and love you showed. You gave yourself to me completely, and I made you mine while making sure you got off. It felt so good."

"It was the best orgasm of my life."

"Well, then. I guess there has to be a next time. Your older sister always wants to make things better for you, after all."

"I guess I should go back to my room before Mom gets home. I really don't want to. I kind of just want to hold you all night."

Mary sighed.

"You know I want nothing more, but I'm grateful that we got to do this so openly tonight. Even if it means we're going to hear Mom stumble in later."

We kissed. It was slow and longing and nothing like what a brother and a sister should be doing together. I went back to my room and lay down. For whatever reason, that was when I felt guilty. I didn't understand it. I hadn't really had any issues before. Or maybe I had, but circumstances had pushed it aside. I had undoubtedly been eager for any affection or comfort. And I did both love and lust after Mary.

I went to sleep, quietly afraid in the darkest part of my mind that such happiness was unforgivable. I didn't believe in god, but it was as though I could feel a presence frowning on us, ready to mete out punishment for our violation of ancient taboo. I dreamed of dark places and fire, but I forgot about it in the morning.

That was how summer went, mostly. Taking care of things during the days, and finding ways to be alone with Mary at night. It was, overall, pretty incredible.

It couldn't last.

The end of the summer brought storms.

Mom, who seemed to be turning over a new leaf after dad's death, had a bad night and was so drunk by the time she got home that she couldn't unlock the door. When I let her in, she shouted at me about something that my father had done before I was even born, and Mary had to help her to bed. After that, she stopped drinking at all, and her nightly excursions stopped being to bars and started being to AA meetings. This was good news, but she was there so often that she really had no time to do anything else but her job.

Chelsea had a few bad fights with her mom about things she'd done or failed to do. These would inevitably be due to her Rebecca insisting on enforcing rules that no longer applied to her (such as extremely early bedtimes) or misremembering conversations. Inevitably both of them would feel horrible: Chelsea, because she knew that her mother was doing the best she could and Rebecca because she almost always realized later that she had been in the wrong. Rebecca was doing a lot better but she still had some neurological impacts that wouldn't go away entirely for at least another year or two. I had to assume the unusual role of mediator and help to sort things out between them. Of course, Rebecca couldn't drive yet, so I was their errand boy too. I didn't blame them, but it took its toll.

The first powerful heroin hit the local campus then too. I guess that we should be grateful it was before school officially started since it "only" killed two people. The whole town was in an uproar over it, though, as if surprised that they were suddenly affected by what had been changing the rest of the country for a while by then. The real impact was probably that our small suburban county had a steep increase in property crime and violent robberies.

Naturally, neither Mary nor I were unscathed.

Mary had been on edge because of mom's sudden interest in our lives and repeated apologies for how she had been. Mom was coming from a good place, but after taking care of ourselves for so long, it just felt like an intrusion. We'd had less time together than we would have liked. I'm sure that made things worse.

I was just tired, really. Late night sneaking and sex, always being there for Chelsea and Rebecca, keeping the house in order and doing nearly all of the cooking was starting to wear me out. Mary would have helped but she was easily spending fifty or more hours a week at her research internship, and I didn't blame her.

One morning, I decided to just go sit down in a local coffee shop, drink some overpriced beverages, and read for a bit. I had a few hours before I had to get home and start dinner and I was beginning to reconsider putting off college by at least a semester. I wasn't sure that I could keep up this pace even without classes.

So it was that I was drinking coffee and ruminating on this while failing to read even a single page. I was, in fact, so focussed on my worries that I didn't notice her sneaking up on me.

"TK?"

The voice was familiar if a bit different. Maybe a little softer than the loud girl who seemed to always need attention back when we had dated. She dressed similarly in style, but again, more restrained; blue jeans and long black blouse. She still had her extremely curvy figure and long blonde hair. And then there were her bright blue eyes, that I always had trouble looking away from. She had a bag over her shoulder and a large tea of some kind.

"Hey, Charly," I said, smiling honestly. I was cautious, but after hearing what had happened to her from Mary, I was genuinely pleased to see her looking so healthy.

"Do you, uh, mind if I sit?"

Her smile was real, but she was a bit hesitant. I guess that made sense given how we'd broken up, but three years of distance and my intense affair with Mary had done a lot to dull the pain.

"Sure," I said, gesturing to the chair across the table. Charly sat and looked at me, directly.

"I'm sorry. For your dad, I mean. I wanted to go to the funeral but...I wasn't sure how that would have gone."

"Thanks. It would have been fine if you had come, but I appreciate the thoughtfulness. It was rough."

"I have no idea what it must have been like for you or for Mary. How's she doing, by the way?"

"Good. She got into Vanderbilt. She's got a local internship for the summer, and then she's heading back."

"Oh, wow. Um...has she forgiven me? Ugh. That's the wrong thing to ask, isn't it? Let me start over. I'm sorry for how I treated you. It was thoughtless and cruel. I've been doing a lot of self-reflection since I got out, and, well, you are more or less the only man that I've ever had a healthy relationship with."

"Apology accepted. It was a long time ago, to be honest, and I've gotten over it. Mary, uh, probably still holds a grudge though."

"Yeah, I figured. She warned me not to break your heart, you know? She said she was happy to see us together, but...there was always this tension, you know? Of course, I guess she was right to worry, wasn't she?"

"I guess. But I made my own decisions too. And it wasn't all bad."

Charly smiled again.

"No, it really wasn't. I'm glad that you have positive memories about it too. I've actually been talking about you a lot lately."

I raised my eyebrows, and she laughed and touched my hand, the way she often did when we had been dating.

"Not in a creepy way. I've been going over that part of my life with my therapist is all."

"You're in therapy?"

"Yeah. Honestly, I probably will be for most of my life. But I'm not complaining. I survived my bad decisions. Did you know that Brad was a dealer?"

I nodded.

"I only learned recently."

"Yeah. He got me hooked on his shit so that he could control me. Use me. Don't get me wrong, he never forced me to take anything, and I made my own decisions, but things got ugly. I only got out from under his thumb about a year ago. I ended up on and off of morphine and then heroin for a while. I eventually checked myself into rehab. Thank god my parents would put up the money. I stole their tv, so I wasn't sure if they would do it."

Her open admission was surprising to me. I chuckled.

"I'm sorry, it's not funny. I just have a hard time imagining you stealing a TV."

"I wanted to take more. But I knew I could get rid of the TV fast."

She sighed, deeply.

"Anyway, I had just gotten out of rehab when I heard about your dad. I was planning on calling you up, part of the apology world tour, but it felt weird to do given the circumstances. So I kept my distance."

"I'm glad you're doing better. Mary will be too, despite the past."

Later I laughed to myself about this, a bit ruefully.

Charly smiled at me again.

"God, it's good to see you. You've really, uh, grown into yourself, you know?"

Charly hadn't changed that much, maybe a little more worn around the eyes, and a little fuller in body. She was undoubtedly still a looker.

"You look good too, Charly."

Charly's phone chimed an alarm.

"Shit. I have to get to work. It was terrific seeing you."

I stood up. It was time for me to get going too. Soon, Mary would be heading home and I kind of wanted to have dinner ready for her given how stressed out she'd been. To my surprise, Charly walked around the table and hugged me, hard. I would be lying if I were to say that it didn't feel nice.

After thinking for a moment, she took a pen out of her bag and scribbled something on her receipt and handed it to me.

"If you uh, feel like it, give me a call sometime. No pressure."

Then she smiled at me and took off at a brisk walk out the door. I looked at the receipt and realized that she'd slipped me her number. That was unexpected. I chuckled and put it in my pocket. I wouldn't mind hanging out with her, but for obvious reasons, I wasn't really interested in romance. It was flattering though.

I left the shop soon after, heading home, relaxed and upbeat.

It wouldn't last.

* * *

I arrived at the house, surprised to see Mary's car already there. It wasn't unusual for her to get out a little early. I went inside visions of a pre-dinner quickie warring with my ability reason. What I saw changed my mind.

Mary was sitting on the couch, arms crossed, staring forward. When I stepped inside, her eyes snapped to mine, and I could practically feel the scorn.

"Are you, uh, ok?" I asked, feeling kind of stupid.

"No. How could I be?"

Mary's voice was challenging and forceful. I'd seen her this mad before, but only when someone had done something awful to her.

"What's going on?"

"Don't give me that bullshit. I saw you."

I blinked, again feeling stupid.

"Saw me?"

"At the fucking coffee shop. I stopped there to get you something nice to surprise you with, and you were with...her."

"Charly?"

"Yes, fucking Charly! I can't believe you!"

"I just ran into her there and..."

"Don't lie!"

"What? Why the fuck would I lie?"

"The same reason a lot of men do. Because one woman just isn't enough for you. How much energy do you fucking have, anyway?"

I laughed, which in retrospect was probably not the best way to respond.

"Not enough for two women. For fuck's sake, Mary. Do you really think I'd cheat on you? With her?"

For the first time, I saw something other than anger. Her eyes watered and her voice turned brittle.

"I don't want to. But I saw how she acted! How she casually touched you, and how you laughed together. Were you talking about me?"

"We were, as a matter of fact."

"Really? What about? How stupid I was?"

"No, more about how you hold a grudge. Charly thought it was justified because of how she treated me. I told her that you'd be happy that she was in recovery. Now, I'm not so sure."
"Why should I be happy for her? She's just trying to wreck you again."

"I doubt it. But it doesn't matter."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm not seeing her. And I have no intention of doing so. She gave me her number, but maybe you should have it."

I took the receipt that Charly had written out of my pocket on and threw it at Mary's feet.

"Why?"

"So you can call her and tell her to stay away from me. Or whatever might make you feel better, so you don't act so fucking crazy."

"Crazy? I'm not... Look, I want to believe you, ok? But I saw her touch you and you were so friendly with her? And when you hugged I had to leave before I started crying..."

"She's a hugger. You know that. Besides, if you saw that, you must have noticed how surprised I looked. What the fuck has gotten into you? Do you really think so little of me? Do you really believe that I would just jump into bed with a pretty girl when I have you at home? I love you, you fucking idiot. I think the last time I lied to you I was in sixth grade!"

I was shouting now. This was ridiculous, and I was tired, and I really didn't need this shit. Every part of me was devoted to Mary. She wasn't just who I loved, but also the focus of much of my fantasy life now. I was so angry that she would even question me.

Mary's eyes were wide now, and she'd shrunk into herself. She wasn't afraid of me, but I think the truth had begun to dawn on her a bit. She was silent.

"You know what? Make your own fucking dinner. I'm tired, and I'm going to take a nap."

I was telling the truth. I was suddenly completely exhausted, all energy drained from me. Mary was the one bright spot every day. Seeing her this summer had been a fantastic blessing. I was lucky, and I knew it. But right that moment I didn't have any patience left for her.

I went to my room, closed the door and lay down. I was asleep in moments.

* * *

When I woke up the light was fading. I had to have been out for at least three or four hours. I realized that there was a light rapping at my door. It opened slightly, and Mary looked in.

"Mom came and left for her meeting. I made dinner if you want any. Can I come in?"

She spoke quietly and with hesitation. I was still unfocused with sleep, but I was no longer angry, just sad.

"Yeah. If you want."

She sat on my bed, just as she had those years ago. She looked away from me.

"I'm sorry. For all of it. I was wrong."

I sighed. There was no world in which I wouldn't forgive Mary almost anything. That didn't mean that I wasn't upset though.

"You're already forgiven. But I don't understand why you'd even worry about me doing that. I've never been that guy. You know that."

"I do, but...it isn't really about you. It's my baggage. I've always been afraid of losing you. Even when I didn't love you...like this."

"Why? I mean, I get fear of loss. I've been afraid that you'd leave me behind once you went to college or maybe you'd meet someone who's, well, better than me. But that doesn't mean I'm going to accuse you of cheating if I see you chatting to someone attractive."

"Charly is more than that, TK. She's your ex. And I know she was your first. I hate that she was your first. You see? It's been this way since I kissed you all those years ago. I know it isn't healthy, but I get so...so afraid when I think about you with someone else. I get sad, and then I get angry, and I don't think anymore."

"That's not an excuse, Mary. It's fucked up. I trust you with my life. I'm not saying you need to do the same, but at least trust that I'm not going to break your heart or run off with someone else."

"You're right. It's not an excuse. It's something that I...I have to deal with. I will, ok? Maybe I'll talk to someone. It's funny you mentioned being afraid that I'd leave you behind. I'd never have thought that. That's really what I'm afraid of, you know. You leaving me behind and...just moving on. Becoming someone embarrassed of me. Someone that I only see once or twice a year on holidays."

The idea of leaving her behind upset me to a degree that I wouldn't have expected. Maybe because I never really thought of doing it. I sat up, scooted over next to her, and put my arm around her.

"Why would you think I would do that? I mean, I'm the one who can go to college anywhere or work anywhere. You want to work in neuroscience. You're going to go where your career takes you, and I was going to follow you."

"I know. We've talked about it, and you said you would. I've always had you, but...I also had a dad too."

"He was a decent guy, but he was always distant."

"No. I mean, yes, you're right. But he wasn't always distant. It wasn't until mom, and he really started fighting that he withdrew from us. I guess I should be grateful. I can remember how he used to tuck us in and read to us. You were too young."

"I...never knew about that."

"I know. I guess I never brought it up because I didn't want to make you feel bad. But he loved us, and cared about us, and then one day it was like he was a ghost. Even before he left mom. You love me and care about me, but..."

"You think I'm going to just take off, like dad?"

"Rationally? No. But deep inside, I have this fear, and it won't go away. I sometimes worry that I...fuck. Never mind."

"No, it's fine. We're talking, let it out, even if it hurts me a little."

"It isn't hurtful. It's embarrassing. I sometimes worry that the fear drove me to seduce you, more than the love that I feel for you. I do love you, but what if...what if I pushed you to this? What if, without intending to, I groomed you for it? Don't forget that I was the one who kissed you both times. And then I sucked your cock. If I hadn't done that, would we even be together? And would you be happier if you were with someone who you could be in public with?"

"That's fucked up. I would never just ditch you for someone that society says is 'appropriate' or because we have some unusual difficulties in our relationship..."

"I know that. Even with the fear, I know that. But what if you would be happier..."

"That's enough," I said, feeling my own fear at this line of thought, "I love you, and I'm happy with you. I hope you're happy with me."

She smiled and touched my face gently.

"I am. I really am."

"Good."

I leaned in and kissed her. We made love that night, slowly and longingly. There was something different about it, but I didn't know what. I was just grateful that the fight was over.

I guess that's why she caught me by surprise.

* * *

It was about a week later that my life kind of fell apart. Mary's internship had wrapped up. I hadn't seen much of her because she'd been busy preparing for the next year of school. I was doing the same thing, although college wouldn't start for me for another two weeks. She was distant, though, and hadn't been around in the evenings as much. She'd been hanging out with old friends, so I wasn't worried. I should have been.

I got home that evening late. I'd taken Chelsea back-to-school shopping and then gone and bought my books and dropped off a check for tuition. I was looking forward to spending the next two nights at home with Mary before she left. I didn't even get one.

As I pulled in to the driveway, I could see that Mary was just wrapping up loading the car. When I got out, she ignored me and went back inside, grabbed a backpack and then came out, tossing it in the back seat and then closing the door. She leaned back against it, looked at me, and sighed. I knew something was wrong, but I guess I was just dense.

"What's going on? Did something happen."

"Nothing happened. I'm going back tonight."

"Why? I thought we were..."

I let the words trail off. I felt something open in my stomach, and I desperately tried to hold it back. I didn't want to look weak in front of her, not then. I don't know why that was so important.

"I don't think I can do this anymore."

"Do what?"

"You know what."

"Maybe I do, but I need to hear you say it."

She sighed, it was deep and full of hurt and sadness, and I wanted to hold her. But I knew that she wouldn't let me.

"We can't be together anymore. I've been thinking about it...and it's just not healthy."

"For you?"

"For you."

"Bullshit."

"I knew you'd argue, that's why I left a note..."

"Fuck. You were just going to leave a note? After this summer? After this whole year, you were going to leave without saying goodbye?"

She was in control, but the tears flowed freely from her eyes now.

"Is this really better? So we can hate each other face to face? This is hard enough, but it's the right thing for you. I'm sure of it."

"Fuck! What is wrong with you? I don't hate you. I don't want to hate you. Where do you get off deciding what's right for me? I know what's right. You're right for me!"

It didn't even occur to me that shouting at my sister in the driveway about her breaking off our incestuous relationship might be a bad idea. Luckily, the street was quiet.

"No. No, I'm not. My freakout about you and Charly sitting together made me see it. You're right, I know you'd never abandon me. But don't you see? That was...ok. It's all right to see you're ex and talk to her. It's even all right if...if you want to get back together with her. It's not all right for your possessive and damaged older sister to keep you to herself, and to pretend that you chose this of your own free will."

"But I don't want her. I want you."

"I know. For now. But you'll get over me. I really...I really do love you, TK. I know how it sounds, right now, but it's true. I think that you'll understand. If not now, one day."

I stood there, jaw agape, realizing that Mary, the love of my life, was abandoning me. She was leaving me.

"You can't really believe that. Is there someone else? Are you tired of me? Am I just not good enough?"

"No. But if it helps you to let go, believe what you need to. I've got to go."

She looked like she was going to step forward and hug me. I tensed up, and she caught herself. She bit her lip uncertainly, then without another word got in her car. Part of me wanted to freak out, to kick her door. To scream at her to stop and think. But it was clear to me that she'd already done her thinking, and this was what she thought was best. She stopped at the foot of the drive, looked at me one last time, with real longing, and then drove away.

Outside, some birds were still singing, and crickets were chirping. The light dimmed into a cool, comfortable twilight. Everything went on, just like it should. Inside, I felt the last bit of certain ground fall out from underneath me.

I was, at last, really and truly alone. She'd left me.

I went inside, went upstairs and found the note that she'd slipped underneath my door. She'd attached the receipt with Charly's number on it with a paperclip.

TK,

I'm sorry for all of it. I'm sorry for starting this, for luring you into it, and for carrying this on with you when I knew that it was wrong. It's what I wanted, and I made you want it too.

I think you might hate me for this. Please just remember that I'm doing it because it's the right thing to do. I hope that one day you can forgive me both for this and for seducing you in the first place.

I look forward to the day when we can be together again as siblings.

I love you, forever and always,

Mary

The letter tore me up inside. The right thing? The right thing was to break my heart and leave me behind? I couldn't understand it. I wouldn't let myself. It was just too much.

I don't know how to describe the rest of that night. I did things. I made dinner for mom because I knew she had meetings and would get home late and go out early again the next day. I even called Chelsea and made sure I had her schedule so I could get her to school on time, as hers started in a few days. I know I did these things, but I don't remember doing them, exactly. It was like I was standing outside myself and watching an automaton perform these tasks.

The next few weeks were like that, in fact. If I had to describe it in a word, it was gray. There was nothing, no distraction, no conversation with friends or Chelsea that brought any relief. I considered things that I never had even thought about before. I should be grateful, I suppose, for all the busywork that I had before my own first semester of college starting. If not for that, I would probably have just sat at home and slept.

The first days of college forced me to focus a bit. Some of the classes that I had signed up for were interesting, and one was far more difficult than I had anticipated. I later learned that it was a "weed out" course for the Comp Sci program, designed to scare incoming students into taking the whole thing seriously and prepare them for more disciplined thinking. I barely managed it, to be honest.

I did my work at the college's extensive library to avoid having to go home. I ate and spent downtime in the student center or outside if it was nice. I didn't particularly enjoy it, but I couldn't stand being home. Mom was attending fewer meetings, which gave her more time to help with Chelsea and Rebecca, but also made her more attentive to me. She knew something was wrong and was trying to wheedle it out of me. I wasn't in danger of saying anything, but trying to keep my guard up constantly was draining. I was going to snap at her soon, and I didn't want to. She was, for once, doing her best.

So it went. I did what was required of me, helped out my family when I could, but otherwise was human driftwood, going where the current took me. I found myself surfing mindlessly when I got the first email from Mary:

TK,

I hope you're doing well. It's been hard not having you to talk to and confide in. If you want, please reply and tell me how your first few weeks of college have been. If this is too soon, I understand.

Love Always,

Mary

My reply was brief:

It's always going to be too soon. Please don't contact me.

I hit send. After thinking about it for a moment, I blocked her email, then on facebook. I deleted her from my phone. It felt a little good to do this, in a petty and vindictive kind of way. At that moment I decided that she couldn't have her cake and eat it too. If she wanted to be rid of me, then she would be. No more conversations or shared jokes. No more discussions about how Chelsea was doing. No more gentle hugs or soft kisses. No more hard fucking followed by loving embraces and what turned out to be sweetly spoken lies. No more anything.

Do I sound angry? Bitter? I was, and beyond anything, I'd felt before. I was adrift, and any maturity or kindness felt alien to me. I wanted to be petty and cruel to the world in general and Mary, specifically. I wanted to give up. So I did, at least a little.

I continued going to class. I did my work correctly and was able to focus again. I kept up with other responsibilities. I spent time with Chelsea, was a good big brother. I got a job doing freelance coding for a mobile game company. I didn't make a lot, but I had savings enough that I could start looking for my own place. I couldn't live in that fucking house anymore. I spent time with friends, at least once a week, I even enjoyed some of it. Most people thought that I was doing fine, and that was ok with me. I didn't want concern, or healing, or love. I wanted to be left alone.

Life went on. It wasn't good, but it went on.

I tried dating, but it was a disaster. I met someone who found me attractive, which should be great. But when you feel bitter about romance, and start to see someone, they might start to see you as important, when in your mind you're just killing time. It wasn't right or fair to her, so I ended everything early. There were tears, but not so many as maybe there would have been had we slept together.

I don't like to admit it, but there was a sick and angry part of me that wanted to fuck her. Not just because it felt good, but because I could have told her that she meant nothing to me afterward, and make her feel like I did all the time. Amy was a good person who had been through a lot and deserved someone who would love her back, so I think I made the right choice.

I was expecting mom to try and talk to me before I moved out, but it was Chelsea who called me out. It caught me by surprise. We were sitting on the couch playing the new Smash Brothers and had just unlocked Inkling. I was about to high five her for beating them so quickly when she sprung it on me.

"Why are you mad at Mary?"

I briefly considered telling her a lie, which I already knew was a bad idea. She was smart enough to know that something was wrong. I decided to figure out how much she knew so I could tell her just enough to leave me alone.

"Why do you think that?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes in that dramatic teenaged way.

"It's super-obvious."

"All right then, since you're smart you probably don't need me to tell you anything else."

I'd hoped my smart ass reply would stop her, but I should have known that it wouldn't.

"Ugh. Look. Mary keeps asking about you, and it's weird. Its all stuff *you* should be telling her."

"Maybe she just didn't ask me."

"Yeah, I guess. Or maybe you aren't talking to her. She asked me how your classes were going, and if you were dating, and how you were doing."

"What did you tell her?"

"That your classes were going well, that you dated a girl like twice and then dumped her, and that you were acting really weird."

"First of all, how do you know about my dating life?"

She shrugged.

"I pay attention. You seemed kind of excited when you were chatting with her at first, but then you got...I dunno. Sad? I overheard you talking to your friend about breaking it off with her. He was as confused as I was."

I sighed.

"You're too goddamned smart."

She laughed at my swearing. I tried not to do it a lot around her, so it was a novelty.

"I just pay attention."

"Why do you think I'm acting weird."

Chelsea's face turned serious, and I felt terrible. It was clear that she'd been worrying about me.

"Sometimes you seem normal and jokey. But then it's like a switch flips, and you get quiet. Your eyes get dark and sad, and maybe even angry. I always wonder if its something I said. But I think it happens every time I bring up Mary."

She was way too goddamned smart.

I sighed again, louder.

"All right. No sense denying it."

"Well...why don't you just...stop?"

"Stop what?"

"Being mad at her."

"It's not that simple."

"Why not? I'm not...like I'm not trying to be mean, ok? I just...I've made you mad before. And I was even bratty about it, and wouldn't apologize sometimes. But you've always forgiven me..."

I looked at Chelsea, seeing the confusion and concern in her eyes. I tried to remember when things were simpler.

"I'm not strong enough to move on from this. I've tried. I'm sorry. You shouldn't have to be worried about me."

"Are you really saying that you don't think you'll ever forgive her? Don't you love her?"

"Yes," I answered without hesitation, "I do love her. It isn't enough. Nothing is."

We were quiet for a while, Chelsea clearly deep in thought and me just trying not to think. I'd pondered this enough over the months since summer ended.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally.

"For what?"

"For bringing it up. I can see how much it hurts you to talk about it. I won't push, but I'll listen if you need me to."

I gave her a side hug.

"You don't need to apologize. You're a good sister. To both of us. Thank you for trying."

The rest of the evening passed, but I could tell that Chelsea was more worried than before she spoke to me. She was bright but had been sheltered, thankfully. She had expected me to reassure her, and tell her that soon things would be OK, but I couldn't. I couldn't believe such lies, so how could I convey them to her? I hoped that the truth I told wasn't too much of a burden and that she wasn't quite adult enough yet to figure out the context.
Chelsea, being the good sister that she was, eventually must have spoken to Mom, who was of course newly attentive to her children. Then, she, in turn, got her bright idea to force us to talk to each other.

And that's how the end of my story begins.

I didn't want to do it, but Mom made me. God that makes me seem so immature, but it was true.

"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this. You know that I really can't make it, or I'd love to pick up your sister."

Unlike many prior nights, this was true. Mom had an out-of-town meeting with a client that she could be fired for missing and wouldn't return until a day after Mary arrived. I could tell she felt guilty about it. It had only been about four months, but Mom had made a lot of lifestyle changes. Gone was the late-night partier who didn't have time for her children, and in her place was someone who both tried to be a good mother to me (better late than never) and more impressively, was there for Chelsea and her mother as well.

Rebecca was still in physical therapy, and occasionally needed a wheelchair when the pain got too severe. Sometimes she was in such deep grief for her husband that she had trouble functioning. She did everything that she could for her daughter, but it was clear that sometimes, the pain and sadness just were too much. At those times, Mom would be there to help drive Chelsea to school or pick her up or just have her over for the night. I still filled in as big brother, but it wasn't like the days when Rebecca was still in the hospital, and I had almost been a single father to her.

For my part, I took a lot of classes. I joined a gaming club. I worked out harder than I had ever before. I did everything I could to avoid thinking about Mary or start dating again. I'm sure I looked fine, but I felt as fragile as antique china. It was bad enough that I was seriously thinking of a way that I could be out of town for Christmas just to prevent me from seeing her again, as much as I wanted to. I couldn't figure out a way to do that without also breaking Chelsea's heart as well.

Chelsea had been clingy. Not just to me, but to her mom. I know that she called Mary almost daily, which was probably good for both of them. They'd always gotten along. I hung out with her a few times a week, and if I were even five minutes late, I'd get a panicky text. It wasn't hard to see that there was a part of her that was afraid that I'd go out like her father, suddenly and without warning. If she was an adult, I might have been annoyed, but she was still in mourning, and I wouldn't do anything to upset her further. No, it was settled, I'd have to be around for Christmas even if that brought me into close contact with Mary.

And that brought me to the second issue. Picking my sister up.

"She took an uber home from dad's funeral. She can do that again."

"What is the matter with you, TK? You and Mary used to get along so well. Even Chelsea's noticed that you two aren't talking. Did you have a fight?"

Gee mom, we just haven't gotten along since we started sleeping together, had a really intense love affair, and then Mary broke my fucking heart. I don't really know what to do about it, could you maybe give me some advice?

"People change."

"Well, that may be true, but I know you still care about her, right? Or don't you love your big sister anymore?"

Yes, I do. That's part of the problem, really.

"Of course I do. Come on, it's not that, it's just..."

"Look, whatever is going on, that's your business, but I can think of two excellent reasons why you're going to pick her up."

"And those might be?"

"One, she asked, and that should be enough. And two, that man committing the robberies is still out there."

I suppressed a laugh at the second part. There was someone (or more likely several people) out there who'd been ripping off liquor stores and doing the occasional mugging, but it was still vanishingly rare compared to any given big city. The opioid epidemic hit our little suburban county too, and the crime rates had spiked a little. But even so...if I chose not to pick her up, and something did happen to her? I would never be able to live with myself.

"All right, fine. Just give me the flight information, and I'll do it, ok."

"I knew you would. Would you consider forgiving her, too?"

My heart dropped in my chest.

"What? Forgive her for what?"

"For whatever you're holding a grudge about. I know I haven't been a good mother, but I know you. I know that you've been hurt somehow and that you blame your sister. I'm not saying you're wrong and I don't need to know the situation. I just want my children to be happy. And so does your younger sister, by the way."

It was dirty to invoke Chelsea's name like that, but I understood.

So, that was why I found myself at the airport waiting for Mary, full of both dread and anticipation.

* * *

I was in the cell-phone parking lot, waiting with a lot of people in minivans and SUVs, trying to get my breathing under control. I was angry. I was sad. I was even a little happy. After all, even if she would never love me the way I needed her to, at least we could try to be friendly, right?

Right?

I wasn't sure, but enough time had passed that I was willing to try at least. I had resolved in any case not to embarrass myself by attempting to get back together with her. I couldn't handle rejection like that again.

The other resolution, which I had barely admitted even to myself, was that if being near Mary was too painful, then I'd start looking at transfers to out-of-state colleges. Preferably on the west coast. No need to be close to that which hurt me if I didn't have to be. Chelsea and Mom could come to visit me if they wanted to.

My phone buzzed, and I jumped. I had been lost in my own melancholy and anxious thoughts, but I was back in reality now. I read the text message. It was simple but confusing.

I just got my bags, and I'm waiting outside. <3

I took a deep breath, put the car in drive, and pulled out of the lot. I was in the pickup area in a matter of minutes. There she was.

Goddammit.

I thought I was prepared. I was not.

Her hair was very short (which looked great on her) and she'd put on a little weight (which did things to me that I did not want to admit), but there was no way I could miss the way she held herself. Or her smile as she waved me over to her. I pulled up and hopped out of the car, eager to get her bags loaded before the ever-present airport cops started to yell at me. She surprised me, though, by hugging me first. For a moment, I lost all control of myself and stood there stunned. Then she let me go and smiled up at me. I remembered how to move and threw her bags in the trunk while she got in out of the cold. Soon we were pulling away, into the night and the nebulous conversation on the way home.

For about a minute we were silent. I wasn't trying to be mean or cold to Mary. Despite my mental preparations for this moment, I had no idea what to say. My mind was blank, and my emotions were too confused to understand. I was pretty much lost. I was glad she spoke up because I could at least respond.

"Thanks for picking me up. I didn't know if you would, no matter what mom said."

I decided to go with honesty.

"I wasn't really sure about it, to be honest. But I couldn't really deny mom's logic."

"You mean about the 'dangerous crime' in the city right now?"

Mary laughed.

"I think mom is a little overly concerned about it, too, but if anything happened... Well, in any case, I wanted to see you."

"Did you?"

There was a lot of feeling in those two words, but I couldn't have told you what they were. I glanced at Mary, and her gaze was inscrutable to me.

"Yeah. Maybe I'm pathetic, but in the end, I really did want to see you. Otherwise, your ass would be in an uber."

Mary laughed again. God how I'd missed that. Then she hit me in the arm, playfully. I thought about her hands on my back, my cock, around my neck. I forced my mind back on the road, with some effort.

"I'm glad. I really wanted to see you again, too. I was worried that you wouldn't even be here for Christmas. I...I wouldn't have blamed you, you know. I would have been sad, but I would have understood."

"I thought about that too. There was too much drama down that road. And...I also didn't want to hurt you. I'm sorry about cutting you off. I just didn't know..."

"Don't apologize. You did what was healthy for you. I was sad, but I understood. I shouldn't have reached out to you that early, anyway. I don't know what I was thinking."

We were silent again for a little while. It was less tense but more melancholy. Mary again broke the silence.

"I did what was healthy for me, too. I went to therapy."

"Really?"

"Really. I talked about my insecurities, my fears. I talked about us."

I'd like to tell you how calm I was, but the truth was I swerved the car just a bit as my head jerked up.

"Wait. I'm sorry. Not like, the specifics or things that could embarrass you. I talked about everything but us being brother and sister. I told her that I got so jealous and possessive. And that, in the end, I broke up with you."

"What did she say?"

"She didn't really tell me to do anything. Not about specific situations, anyway. She did help me to stop and think about what I was afraid of and how I was letting those fears hurt myself as well as people around me. I was so insecure, and I never needed to be. It was my own damage, from the way we were raised. I had a hard time thinking anyone could really love me, especially someone as great as you. I learned how to look at things more calmly and rationally, how to feel fear without letting it determine my actions. God, it sounds cheesy when I just say it out loud like that."

"It does kind of make you sound like a padawan."

She laughed.

"Shut up. I'm trying to apologize."

I felt my expression harden.

"You might try."

"But?"

"I'm not sure I'm ready to forgive you. Maybe I never will be."

I heard her swallow nervously and it hurt. I was still angry and confused, but I loved her. I wasn't going to admit that, though.

"That's...that's fair, TK. I just...I don't...fuck."

She was crying now. With other people, I might have thought it was manipulation, but with Mary, I knew it was just emotion. I waited patiently and kept my eyes on the road. Eventually, she controlled herself.

"I...I want us to be together again, TK. I know how that sounds, but I can't stop feeling the way that I do. It *hurt* to be separated from you, and it never stopped. I worried about you and thought about you all the time. Especially when I...you know. I felt like a creep, but I had to ask Mom and Chelsea about you. I needed to know that you were ok. And you weren't, and it broke my heart. I don't expect you to agree with me or to let me back into your heart. I just...I want a chance to repair things. Even if its just back to the way things were. I'd rather be 'just' your sister than nothing to you."

I stayed silent for a long time. I was thinking, yes, but I was being petty and cruel as well. I could feel Mary's tension. Her fear of complete or partial rejection. I wanted her to suffer as I had. I wanted more of her tears. I wanted to hear her beg. I'm not proud of it. I ended up just telling the truth, which I guess was harsh enough.

"I don't know, Mary. I've spent months wondering if I was just broken in some way. Like I didn't have any real value. If I hadn't had classes and friends to talk to and helping out with Chelsea and Rebecca, I would have lost my mind. I think about you all the time and its a confusing fucking mess of affection and anger. I'm not sure I'm even really capable of forgiving you. Or if I want to."

There was a long break.

"Oh."

There was so much angst in that one word. So much sorrow and grief and loss. If I still had any thoughts that Mary left me for any reason other than caring about me, they vanished. I was still hurt, though.

"Look. I'll try, ok? I know it doesn't sound like much, but...I'm not going to avoid you while you're here. I'll talk things over with you, and...and we'll see. It's the best I can do."

"TK...that's...that would be wonderful. I mean...I wasn't even sure if you would listen to me, much less spend time with me. I'll take what I can get, and if you have anything you need to say to me, no matter how awful you think it is, I want you to say it."

Without thinking, I reached out and took her smaller hand in mine. It was sweaty and trembled a little, but she squeezed it and didn't let go.

I felt my resolve falter as I again thought about the way that hand had felt on my cheek, my cock, and even my throat. My sincere and continuing desire for my sister was proving inconvenient for my stoic exterior.

I might have denied it, but I knew how this night would end. Or at least I thought I did.

* * *

When we arrived home, Mom wasn't home yet. I hadn't expected her to be. I texted her that I had picked up Mary and that we had both arrived safely, knowing that she would worry if I didn't. I carried Mary's bag in the house, which made her eyebrows raise, but she said nothing.

As soon as I heard the front door close behind me, I felt it coiling inside me like a snake. Lust. I still loved Mary, it was true, and I wanted to forgive her. God help me. I wanted it more than anything.

The fact that I hadn't had sex in months and was now alone with the woman that I wanted more than anything in the world also weighed heavily on my mind.

I decided to clear it by being somewhat hospitable.

"Are you hungry? There are leftovers, but they're a few days old. Or I could make you something?"

"Hmm. I don't really feel good about making you cook for me, TK. You can go to bed if you want. I'll find something."

"No, I said that I wouldn't avoid you, and I was serious. Pancakes?"

Mary smiled at me. She looked so free. I felt a little more of my resolve slip away.

"Only if you let me help make them."

It was my turn to smile. We used to love cooking together when we were in high school but never really got the chance anymore.

We started simply, making the batter. There wasn't much for two people to do so she measured the ingredients, and I mixed them. We kept brushing up against each other. The kitchen wasn't large, so we couldn't help it, but neither of us shied away from the contact. We had our own recipe that each of us knew by heart.

It didn't take us long to have a stack of too many pancakes in front of us, syrup and butter at the ready. I have to admit, I have always loved breakfast at dinner.

We sat down and ate our pancakes in silence. I felt my foot touch hers under the table. We reached for the syrup at the same time and brushed fingers, then smiled bashfully at one another, like we were kids on a first date. No matter how hard I tried to put things behind me, I was still as hard as a rock.

Soon, we'd both eaten as much as we wanted. We locked eyes. It was a moment that almost broke me. Mary looked away first, biting her lip. I was grateful. I decided to be gallant.

"I'll do the dishes if you want to go and get ready for bed."

That was when it happened. It was so small and natural. Something we'd each done a million times as children. But not in this context.

Mary was silently looking at my hand. I was confused until I saw a small dab of syrup on it. Before I could clean it, she'd reached out and wiped it up with a single finger. Then, as I watched, she slowly inserted it into her mouth and sucked it off. Goddamn it.

"Fuck the dishes," I said, without thinking. We both stood up more or less at once and moved towards the stairs. We didn't make it before we were all over each other, kissing and caressing. Mary's hands were on my ass and mine were under her shirt, moving over her back. No bra, good. She whimpered as my hand found her pert breast. She tried to speak, doubtlessly to ask me if I was sure, but I shut her up with a much deeper, fierce kiss.

I felt her melt against me and knew that she would do whatever I wanted.

"All I've been able to think about is having you inside me," she whispered in my ear.

I put my hands under her ass and lifted. She giggled and wrapped her legs around me, both making it easier to carry her and harder to focus as she ground against me.

"I've missed that little monster you keep in your pants."

"Little?"

"Aw. He's more than big enough for me. Fuck, I need you, TK. I've needed you for months. I don't know what I was thinking, trying to stay away from you."

We both knew that Mary thought she'd been doing the right thing, and perhaps I should have been considering whether or not I was jumping back into things too quickly. The truth was that I needed her also. Missing her was like losing a part of me. Perhaps more thought and discussions and even some arguing were still required. They could all wait until after I'd given my sister the good hard fucking that she deserved.

We reached my room. I threw my sister onto the bed. She made a little surprised noise. All humor was forgotten she looked up at me, nothing but total desire in her eyes. She began immediately to unbutton her jeans. They were a little tight on her, and she had to shimmy a bit to get out of them which made the rest of her jiggle most appealingly. It was amazing how even the smallest things about her aroused me.

I cleared my head and took my own clothes off, letting my aching cock free. Mary finished taking her shirt off and was soon in nothing but panties. She locked eyes with me and hooking her thumbs in their waistband, pushed them off as well. God, she looked great. She had gained a little weight, but it was distributed to areas that I, uh, preferred. I could tell that there was some hesitancy in her posture, a worry that I might not want her. She held her hand out to me.

"No," I said, firmly.

She blinked her eyes, shocked. I could tell that she was hurt, which wasn't my intention.

"Turn around Mary. Get on all fours."

"Oh...oh of course...if that's what you want, TK. I'm yours."

As she did so, I took her in again. God what an amazing ass. And there was her lovely pussy, the cause of so much of my angst. It was swollen and wet. She'd trimmed her beautiful hair, so I smiled at her apparent hope that I'd be seeing it. As I knelt behind her, she spoke again, her voice shaky with want and need.

"I mean it. Not that I wouldn't have tried anything with you before but...now I'm yours. I decided that before I came home. I need to show you complete trust, the way you did when you let me ride you and...and choke you. So I guess what I'm saying, really badly, is that I'm not going to say no to you anymore."

Mary was rambling. It was true that she could trust me, and I never really wanted to hurt her, but I wasn't sure if that was the kind of devotion I wanted from her. If she had boundaries, I would respect them. I just didn't want her to break my heart again. I pushed the thoughts aside. They were for another time.

She jumped as she felt my wet warm tongue lapping at her entrance. I smiled and brought my arm around her leg so I could thumb her clit gently as I ate her out. She cried out.

"Fuck. TK...you don't need to...oh, fuck please, like that baby...I love you..."

I knew how she liked it, and I used slow, gentle licks to give her what she needed. The truth is that I believed that she hadn't had sex in a while, and no matter how turned on she was, I didn't want to force myself inside her. Plus I wanted to make her cum first.

I stopped lapping at her but continued to play with her clit. I inserted a finger inside of her, and she moaned, dropped onto her elbows and arched her back, like a good little girl who needed to be fucked deeply. On a whim, I decided that my tongue could still do some good. I began licking her tight little asshole as she cried out.
"Jesus fucking Christ, TK. I...oh fuck, please don't stop. Please. Please, ...you've already got me close. You're my only...oh fuck."

I suppose that I shouldn't be surprised that Mary would like anal play. I licked around her puckered bud, slowly applying more force. She cried out and moaned as my finger, thumb, and tongue overwhelmed her. It was a little like torture in a way. She really wanted my cock but loved this. I applied more force with my tongue until at last, I slipped it inside her.

"Fuck, I'm coming, baby..."

Mary screamed. We were lucky we lived in a somewhat isolated spot because the neighbors would have heard that. She led her head drop to the mattress as I stopped my attentions. She was already panting.

"TK...that was amazing...oh, fuck!"

I gave her no rest. My cock ached, and I wanted, no needed to make her mine. She had to be reminded who she belonged to. I was still angry, still hurt. That would take time to fade, but until then, she'd get some good, hard fucking. She moaned deep in her throat but didn't bring her head up.

I moved fast and hard, filling her and then feeling her grip at me as I took my cock away. She seemed unable to form words, just moaning and occasionally grasping at the sheets. It wasn't enough for me. I reached out and gripped her short hair at the base of her neck, and pulled her head up so I could kiss her. She responded wonderfully, and I continued to maul her neck as my rhythm sped up.

My groans and grunts became louder, and Mary replied with her own whispers and cries. I began to realize that she was saying something, low and over and over again: please. She was begging me to keep going, on the ragged edge of a massive orgasm. She was pleading for me to accept her and forgive her. She was telling me how ready she was for my cum.

"Oh, fuck, Mary, you feel so fucking good..."

At this small sentence of validation, she came, quivering and crying out over and over, body tense. Her pussy, already tight, felt like it was crushing my cock for a moment. Then I lost all semblance of restraint. I buried myself in my sisters pussy and released stream after stream of hot, sticky seed. Part of me wished that I could have lasted longer, but another part knew that this was right and good and that we would make love many more times. We were, at least in our minds, meant for one another.

The passion didn't end as both of us, panting and sweaty and tired, collapsed into each other's arms, making out slowly while our hands explored each other. My door was wide open, a fact that somehow neither of us had noticed. Thank god Mom was out of town until late tomorrow.

Eventually, we slept like that, but only for a few hours. I woke to Mary cleaning my cock with her tongue. She met my eyes, and hers were sad and loving. It hurt me to see how much she wanted to make things right. After she'd gone down on me for a bit I pushed her down and fucked her again, this time tender, cradling her head in my arms as she came. We slept again in each other's arms after that, much more relaxed

It was after the third time, both of us fatigued and spent from Mary riding another powerful climax out of me, that she realized her mistake.

"Oh. Oh, fuck."

"What is it?"

"TK...please...oh fuck. Please don't be mad at me. I didn't mean to..."

I was worried, but I suspected that whatever it was felt worse to her than maybe it actually was.

"Hey Mary, it's ok. We've got a lot to talk about but I love you, and I know you love me. So tell me."

"I forgot. In all of the confusion and tension, I forgot to take my birth control. Yesterday before I left and today. I never really thought we'd actually...you know...fuck the first night together. I wanted it, but I never thought...it doesn't matter. I didn't do it on purpose..."

"Calm down. I believe you. We've had problems, but lying hasn't been one of them, ok? Relax. You know that whatever happens, I'm still going to be there for you."

"It feels so good to hear you say that. You don't know...how much it means. I'm still sorry though. I better take care of it. The CVS here is still open twenty-four hours, right?"

There was no way I was going to cum in my sister and then make her go to the drug store to buy Plan B. That felt like the most classless thing in the world that I could possibly do.

"No fucking way. I'll go. I'd just worry about you because it's so late anyway."

"Really, you'll go out at," she stopped and checked her phone, "four in the morning? To get Plan B for me? I mean...I appreciate it, but it could probably wait until daybreak..."

"It could, but it's more effective the sooner it's used. I paid attention in sex ed."

"What if I don't want it to be effective?"

She smiled at me when she said it, but I noticed the way one hand drifted over her belly.

"The idea of you being pregnant...is almost unbearably hot to me, but I don't think either of us is ready for that."

She sighed.

"I know. It just got me thinking is all. Fuck, I'm sorry again. Hurry back, ok? I'll wait up for you."

"No need. I'll be back soon."

I kissed her on the lips and left her there, nude, still with a light sheen of sweat on her pale skin, her short, dark hair framing her head on the pillow, her small breasts settled, a sheet covering her hips and sex. She was still the most beautiful girl that I'd ever seen in my life. I tried to take a mental snapshot, to remember her like this, forever. I don't know why it just seemed necessary.

It was late, and being only two days before Christmas, a lot of the town was dead. I saw more cops, out looking for drunk drivers and dealers, than I did regular cars. It would have been reassuring, but I really didn't want to get pulled over, so I drove more cautiously than needed. The roads were wet but there was no ice, and the snow that fell gently wasn't sticking. It was beautiful in my headlights. Everything was beautiful now that Mary had returned to me.

I had told her that it might take a long time for me to forgive her. The truth was it was already done. I was still a bit angry and frustrated, but there were healthy ways of dealing with that. It was easy for me to slip back into being her lover, mainly because it was abundantly clear that she had never stopped loving me.

I pulled into the drug store's parking lot. It was almost empty, and for a moment I was concerned that the twenty-four-hour business had closed for some reason, but the harsh fluorescent lights were beaming through the windows. I got out and walked inside, through the chill of the late evening.

The first thing I noticed when I entered was the heat, a little too high to be comfortable. The second thing I noticed was the lack of a greeting. This chain had, for years now, forced its cashiers to welcome customers as soon as they stepped in the door. I thought it was silly to make them do such a thing, but I turned to see if anyone was working. It took me a moment to understand what I was seeing.

There was a cashier there, young, eyes huge, trembling. She looked almost comical, frozen in the act of passing a wad of mixed bills to a young man. No, not even that. He was a boy, dressed in baggy donated clothes which looked as worn out as his eyes. The gun in his had seemed to be absurdly large as both it and his attention turned towards me, the unexpected intruder.

I was dimly aware of two other bystanders being conspicuously immobile just on the other side of the robber. I wanted to be invisible, like them. I certainly had no intention of trying to stop him. I was just here to buy my sister Plan B. The thought was, at the moment, dimly funny.

No, Mr. Gunman, I'm not going to interfere, I just don't want to knock my sister up.

I laughed involuntarily. It was more of a chuckle really at the absurdity of the entire situation. Briefly, my body twitched in response. I guess that was all it took. There was a flash of light and sound.

The kid had shot me.

For a brief moment, I felt nothing. I assumed I was fine. The kid bolted out the automatic doors. I stood there for what must have been a second or two.

Then I felt the white-hot poker in my side, and the warm, thick liquid against my stomach, then thigh. I didn't want to look down, but I did. The hole in my front was bad, but I'd seen enough true crime tv to know that the one in my back would be much worse.

At least we made up, I thought, before stumbling to my knees and rolling onto my back. I'd have been thrilled if I had blacked out here. It would have been better for my future dreams at least, if not for my health. There was a lot of warm wetness spreading beneath me. Breathing hurt, and I was getting cold fast. A cold, logical, part of my brain told me that my organs weren't getting enough blood, and I was most likely going into some kind of shock. I saw a lot of movement out of the corner of my eye, but I had difficulty focusing on it. There were voices that blurred together into shouts and tears.

Someone told me it would be ok. I didn't believe them, but it made me feel better to not be alone. I wanted to ask him to talk to Mary to tell her that I loved her and that it was worth it. I knew her and knew that she would blame herself for this. I couldn't stand the thought of her hating herself if I died.

Maybe that's why I didn't. At least not right away.

The paramedics showed up and were all professionalism and reassurance. I answered their questions or at least made answer-like noises. The fact that I was conscious seemed to please them though, so I was happy to do whatever. I don't know if it was from one fo the injections or just a part of the injury, but eventually, my side went numb. I was grateful. I don't remember much of the ambulance ride, mostly the bright lights in the back. For whatever reason, I was trying to read the labels on the various medical products stowed on the interior walls.

My memory jumped to the hospital, at last. The same one where my father had died, under the knife. Where I was going. I wondered if I would get the same surgeon, the same tools and medicines. I wondered if I would meet him soon. I tried to get the attention of the nurse who accompanied me. She was working closely with a doctor, but I just wanted to know if they'd clean my body before they showed me to my sister. It seemed very important at the time.

Finally, a nurse gave me something really good and asked me to count backward from one-hundred. I got to ninety-eight.

* * *

I knew I was dreaming. Or in a coma. Or something. The point is that I knew I wasn't awake. You can't watch yourself being buried.

On the other hand, maybe you can if you're a ghost. That thought came to me a lot, and I hated it.

I saw the day of my funeral. I had no control over anything, and I just kind of floated over everything and observed, like an omniscient TV camera. Unlike most of the shows I typically watched, this was more dramatic than I expected or wanted it to be.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was that I followed Mary, specifically, throughout her experiences.

It started with her waking up. She stood up and went to her vanity and then sat back down in front of it. She looked at herself with a deep sigh, her expression dead. Her eyes were red and bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. Her features were no longer beautiful but sharp, her cheeks hollow. Her cheekbones stood out, making her her beautiful in a way that I wasn't comfortable with. I wanted to yell at her. I was desperate to tell her that she needed to eat and take care of herself, but I was dead, and thus just a passive observer.

Mary put on her makeup, ensuring that it was flawless. A few times she almost started crying but then stopped herself. Every time she did she looked in the mirror and said "This is for him," as if reminding herself of some great responsibility. Then she got up and put on a black dress. I'd never seen it in her wardrobe before, so she must have gotten it at college. It fit her like a glove, and I wanted her again, right there. Could ghosts want like this without ever being able to fulfill their desires? Given the casual cruelty of the world towards the living, it seemed likely that the dead would suffer such things as well.

She looked for a while at her fishnets, considering. I knew what she was thinking at that moment, not through any magic. I loved her in them and always had. They were part of her goth look and more than once she'd worn them with the explicit purpose of arousing me, and the night had ended with them wrapped around my waist. In the end, she decided against it, because it would look strange at a funeral. She did, however, decide to wear the same pair of sheer black panties that she was wearing the first night that we had fucked. She had a small but sorrowful smile as she pulled them on. Then came the heels.

She looked at herself in the mirror a final time. Most worrying to me was that she had done nothing with her hair save run her fingers through it. I know that seems odd, and believe me when I say that I found her achingly beautiful in any case. The concern was that she usually spent at least a little time on it, no matter what she was doing that day.

I saw everything. The grim breakfast with mom. Meeting Rebecca and Chelsea at the church. The service was simple, and there were more people there than I had expected.

The cemetery was covered in a thin layer of snow and ice. A few people shivered and watched as my casket was set upon its final bier.

Mary held Chelsea's hand as I was lowered into the ground, much as I had for our father's funeral. Chelsea began to sob, and Mary pulled her very close. At last, the burial was complete. I thought that finally, I'd be able to dream of something else.

But the show went on.

It was mundane. They all went to something like a reception. Grief was shared, and people expressed sympathies. I saw it wearing on Mary as the hours passed.

Finally, it was over. She would be allowed to go home and rest. But again, I was wrong. She disappeared back into her room, but rather than go to sleep, she took out a notebook and pen, sat at her desk, and began to write.

She'd journaled since forever, although I'd never pried into what she had been writing. Today she seemed to be chronicling our relationship. Specifically the romantic parts. I began to grow worried as she detailed what she viewed as her sins. From the perspective of her grief, she'd had a sexual obsession with me, and had abused her power as the older sibling to seduce me. She wrote about how much she loved me and how I had loved her in return. She wrote about breaking it off and how much it had hurt, and then she wrote about "being weak" and seducing me again. She ended it with a description of how my death was the result of her inability to control herself, and that I was going to the store on her behalf for plan b when I died. She ended it with an apology to Chelsea for having killed me. Even though I knew I couldn't affect anything, I tried to reason with her, shout at her that she was wrong and that I had loved her and that she wasn't manipulative or evil but the best thing that had ever happened to me. For a moment I thought that she heard my voice, and she gave a small smile to nothing in particular. Then she stood up.

This is where I want to stop writing, but I can't.

She left and went to my room, as she had done many times before to "borrow" clothing. This time she came back with an old leather belt. No. She made a loop with it and put the loop around her neck. No. Don't do this. Please. She pulled the chair back from her desk and stood on it. There was a simple hook in the ceiling, secured to a rafter. She used it for hanging plants and decorations. Now she put the hook through one of the belt holes. Please, stop. I'm sorry for dying just please stop. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, her small, sad smile returning for the very last time.

I was screaming. I was screaming, and no noise came out, but my throat hurt. It ached. I saw the slightest movement of her bare foot, ready to kick the chair away. Things went black.

* * *

I woke up in a general haze and ache. My throat hurt, and I wanted to gag on whatever was inside it. My arm had an alarming-looking IV connector in it and, somewhat humorously, that was what made me panic. I saw a button nearby, and I pressed it. Thankfully it was for a nurse and not to dispense large amounts of opiates into my system.

An attractive middle-aged woman with short, red hair appeared as if by magic. Were all nurses hot? She smiled indulgently as if she could read my mind.

"I'm Veronika. It's all right. You're through the worst of it. Are you in pain?"

I nodded, my throat too full and dry to speak.

"Nod if it's sharp, shake your head if it's dull."

I shook my head.

"Good. I'm going to keep you on your scheduled pain management. We want to keep you comfortable, but we want to use as little as possible. We're going to remove the breathing tube, but it's a little more complex than just yanking it out. So just try and relax while we work, ok?"

I closed my eyes, happy to be done having to answer questions. I heard Veronika talking to someone else, and they worked quietly around me. There was a weird suction feeling coming from the tube, then it was just gone. I coughed but was easily breathing on my own. My throat was dry, but it felt like an enormous relief to have it gone, like the first step of recovery. I fell into thick darkness.

When I opened my eyes some time had passed. Hours or days, I could not tell. I felt her though. Not Veronika, but Mary. She'd been there, I was sure of it as if I could still feel the heat of her hand on my own. With that feeling came a wash of relief. I rationally knew that I had been dreaming, but I had still been afraid that it had somehow been the truth. I looked around. I wasn't in an ICU filled with other patients, which I took to be a good sign. I had my own room, small though it was. It was dark outside. Had dawn not arrived yet?

"Hey," a voice said, familiar, from the doorway. It was Mom. Mary and Chelsea stood behind her. They'd obviously been crying, and I felt guilty. I wanted to apologize to them for getting shot. I guess that crying was reasonable. I would have had it been one of them instead of me.

"H...hey," I croaked back, my throat still dry and cracking. Mary was there in a moment, pouring me water and helping me drink it. It was ice cold and tasted better than any other drink I had ever had. I realized after taking a few gulps that she was looking at me with an expression of guilty grief. I smiled at her, although it probably looked a little ghastly. I wanted to tell her that none of this was her fault, that it was worth it, a small price to pay for the rest of the previous night. I couldn't do it in front of Mom and Chelsea though.

Speaking of Chelsea, she was at my other side and holding my hand, with a pale face and a thin smile. She was a mature girl but still a child. I couldn't imagine what I looked like to her eyes. I thought about what my father must have looked like in the morgue, what her mother looked like in the ICU. She squeezed my hand as if making sure I was really there and alive. I pressed back, so she know that unlike Dad, I was going to walk out of here. She broke down almost immediately.

"Oh my god," I said in mock offense, "I know I'm ugly but come on..."

"Shut up," she said, laughing despite herself.

"I feel bad making you worry."

"It's all right. By the time they told me you'd already gotten out of surgery. But you wouldn't wake up."

"How long was I out?"

"Thirty-five hours," Mary answered, deadpan, her eyes haunted.

"Oh. I can't even imagine how you..."
I stopped myself from continuing, realizing that I wasn't about to explain why I went there.

"Yeah, we know already, it's fine," Mom said, "I told her that she shouldn't blame herself, but you know your sister. She's always looked out for you."

Mary looked at me frantically and shook her head. I was just clearheaded enough to understand that I didn't know what was going on. I stayed silent.

"I told mom that I'd forgotten to bring pads and I didn't realize it until it was already late. We couldn't find any, and I was going to go out and get some, but you wouldn't let me, saying it was too dangerous for me to go at 4 am, and there was no sense in both of us going. I guess...you were right."

"It was bad luck."

"It doesn't feel like luck, TK. It feels like punishment."

Chelsea just kept holding my hand, but Mom looked askance at her, sensing deeper meaning but unable to decipher it.

"Maybe it's just the price that had to be paid. It was worth it."

She sighed. Mom made a concerned noise. I realized that she was about to start digging. I cut her off.

"We're talking again, Mom. We had a big fight over...well, silly stuff but we hurt each other. We talked on the way back from the airport and more at home and we..."

"Worked things out," Mary finished for me with a smug little smirk.

"Oh, good," Chelsea said quietly. We'd all more or less forgotten about her for a moment, which was itself a bit dangerous. She was and remains a brilliant girl.

Despite being happy to see them and having been awake for, at most, an hour, I felt my lids begin to drop as the ache in my side lessened. They must have increased my pain med drip for the night.

I guess I said goodbye to them, but I don't remember it.

* * *

I remembered the future visits. Almost all of them came daily. Mary tried to get time to talk to me alone each day, and I appreciated it. Although they were serious talks, there was joy in them. Neither of us had changed our minds about how we felt and our intentions for the future.

Towards the end when I was so frustrated at being unable to fuck her that I thought I'd lose my mind, she even gave me a stealthy but very loving hand job. God bless her.

Things weren't all great. I didn't get out for another week. The wound wasn't even that bad, but there was an infection. Thankfully, it was minor. The physical therapy was at times grueling and took months. Anyone who's been there can understand and a lot of people who haven't have had to witness a loved one deal with that kind of suffering. It was still worth it.

I missed out on the next semester of college, which couldn't be helped, but despite her complaints, I insisted that Mary go back. She was close to completion, and she thought she might only need another half-year to get her bachelors. Then she could look for Master's programs closer to home.

Rebecca repaid all the help I gave her and more. I had a great deal more respect for her now. My own injuries were much less extensive, and even my therapy was less painful. She was driving by then and made sure I got to each appointment, which was good because Mom's work was keeping her on the road a lot. Chelsea was ridiculously helpful too, although she treated me a bit like fine china that might shatter at any moment.

Things became, well, normal. Normal for us anyway.

I continued my affair with Mary. Although I guess you couldn't call it that anymore. We were still passionate, and we still kept it a total secret, but it felt committed. We never used the word marriage, but all that was missing was an engagement ring. We always found time for each other over the next year, and by the end, we were talking about finding a place together and reasons for it that we could give to others.

When Mary graduated, she got a research assistant position as a part of her Master's program. I was working by then, and together we could afford to rent a small, but beautiful house in the country about halfway between our hometown and where her new college was located. It was close enough for both our sakes. We were, of course, living together to "save money." Mom was just happy to see us out on her own, although she kept offering to pay for things.

The only one I ever worried about figuring things out was Chelsea, but she hasn't so far. She comes over fairly often for pizza and board games. She likes that our house is so private and surrounded by woods. I think its kind of magical for her.

It is for Mary and me too. Sure we're both busy with class and work, but we have evenings together, and most weekends. In those times, our small home, a cottage really, becomes a place where we can be ourselves. It's also secluded enough to safely make love in the back yard, which is a pleasant diversion.

Do we fight? Yes. Is Mary still possessive at times? Sure. Am I periodically thoughtless? Absolutely. We work it out. Always. In fact, that's really the only thing I'm entirely sure of.

Maybe things will change. Perhaps she'll have to move away for work, or I'll have to take a job elsewhere. We don't know. It sometimes still feels like god or fate or the universe wants us to be apart, to stop violating the ancient and obsolete taboo. But we won't.

We won't give up on each other. We won't stop loving each other. We won't stop working to be better for each other. Ever.

In the end, that's enough for me.