All I Need Pt. 02

Anomic©

Author's Note:

All characters are 18 in this story.

This story contains incest and graphic depictions of sexual activity. If that is not your thing, you have been forewarned. Constructive feedback is always welcome. Many thanks for the positive response to Part One. I truly did not expect it to be so well received.

This is the continuation of All I Need and picks up exactly where Part One left off. I strongly recommend reading Part One before reading this one in order to understand what is going on.

Special Thanks to Cliffhangingtom for providing valuable encouragement and feedback.

*****

Part Two.

Other than hearing from my mother that Amy had arrived safely in Rome, I heard nothing from or about her for the next several days. I hoped she was enjoying herself. As a slap in the face to my joke the night before she left, the house seemed empty and quiet without her. I missed her already. The first couple of days I suspected that she was having the time of her life and was too busy being enthralled with Rome to contact me. Her facebook page seemed to be updating constantly with photos of her and her friends at museums and restaurants. The only hint of anything at about us was that she posted a link to a song I had included on her phone that she proclaimed a new favorite that her friends should hear. That got a half smile out of me.

The morning of the third day, I started to worry that she was being quiet because she regretted what had happened with us. By mid-afternoon, I felt like I was becoming a nervous wreck. I couldn't bring myself to send her a message. I didn't want to interrupt her trip. That evening, resolved to clear my head, I went to the bar with John.

Several beers and shots later, I was in better spirits, talking with John about the rapidly approaching show.

"You never have liked being around people that much, dude. But it's gonna be great. You've got talent. It'll be cool for some of the right people to see that."

"Meg talked me into it, really. Mostly to piss off that prick that teaches Art 202. She seems to think I've got something to prove, but I really don't." I took a sip of my beer. "Not that I would mind peeing in his cheerios a bit."

"See? This is why I prefer my chemistry classes. I just gotta memorize the stuff and puke it out on a test. None of this ego driven shit you gripe about." John chuckled.

My phone vibrated in my pocket and I slipped off the bar stool to get it from my pocket.

"Getting texts at one in the morning? You got some chick begging for it?" John raised his eyebrows at me. "Can't be Meg, she's over there."

He motioned to where I hadn't noticed Megan was sitting with some other art majors at a corner booth. Her hair was now a violet color. She looked up just as I glanced her direction and smiled at me. I gave her a small smile back, trying to be polite. We hadn't seen each other in a few weeks, as I'd made up excuses to not go to her apartment the last couple of times I'd been invited.

I looked down at my phone and saw the message was from Amy. "It's unbelievably beautiful here."

I exhaled heavily, feeling a giant knot in my stomach begin to unravel. I quickly replied. "You must fit right in."

Another text arrived. "I was already spending all my time thinking about the night before I left. You aren't helping. :)" That made me smile.

John looked at me expectantly. "Are you going to tell me who's texting you or what? They sure cheered you the fuck up in a hurry."

"It's my sister. She's vacationing in Rome and just checking in. Believe me, my life isn't that interesting, dude." At least, I sure as hell didn't want him to know how interesting of a turn it had been taking lately.

"Ah. Damn. I'm disappointed. I thought you were holding out on me." He laughed and took another hit off of his beer before signaling to the bartender for another. If he only knew, I thought.

I dropped my phone back in my pocket and finished off my beer before heading for the bathroom. My bladder had been sending up warning flairs for a few minutes now.

"Back in a minute." I commented offhandedly.

The bar was busy that night, and there was a line for the bathrooms. Cursing my luck as I waited in line, my phone vibrated again. I started retrieving it from my pocket, but saw Megan walking toward me. I let the phone slide back down in my pocket. Amy would have to wait a minute. Megan glanced at the pocket my phone was in, but caught herself and tried to hide it.

"Hey stranger," Megan said, clearly buzzed, as she gave me a quick hug. "Are you ready for the show?"

"Just about ready. At least in terms of having stuff ready to hang. I'll need about six more beers before I'm ready to deal with the people there." I chuckled at her.

"Well, you've got about a week and half. I'm pretty sure you can drink a six pack in that time." She leaned a bit closer. "Or, you could come by my place later and I could help you relax."

"I'd better not tonight, I have to open the store tomorrow." I replied. It wasn't entirely true, but I didn't want to get into that kind of conversation with her tonight.

"That's too bad. It's been a while. I'm starting to think you're avoiding me." Megan gave me a wink and leaned up on her toes to give me a quick peck on the cheek before heading back to her friends. "Give me a call soon."

I turned back toward the bathroom and exhaled. I checked my phone again. "I had a lot of time to think on the flight. And I have some regrets."

I had been thinking I was too drunk for this conversation when I started reading it, but the last sentence sobered me up. A lot. The dark knot threatened to return, but she did seem happy about us just a moment ago. This had to be something different from the capital "R" version of regret, right? I simply replied with "...regrets?"

"Not that kind, sweetheart. I mean the kind that have me over here in my lonely hotel bed this morning, wondering what it would feel like to have your hands on me." I read the message and tried to restart my heart, pondering where one might buy one of those defibrillation machines. Despite the feelings we clearly shared, it was a mentally jarring experience to consolidate the life long version of my sister with the newly discovered version of my sister who was now flirting with me. Successfully, I should add, considering the twitch I felt in my pants when I read her words.

"Give me a few minutes, I'm checking flight plans." I responded, wishing it were an actual possibility.

"Don't tease me like that, dear brother. I'll get even."

"Oh? Do tell." I smirked to myself. A challenge for her. A little of the old sibling rivalry kicked in, I guess. I finished up in the bathroom, which took longer than it should have due to the effect her words had had on my prick, and headed back to the bar, feeling much better about things, and really wishing she were back already so I could show her exactly what she was wondering about.

I noticed Megan doing her flirting routine on a tall guy with glasses and a bun in his hair at the far end of the bar. I caught her clearly watching me out of the corner of her eye. I'd seen this before. She didn't know who I was texting, but it bothered her and she was trying to get me jealous by hitting on someone else. Like I said before, she could be emotionally draining. Possessive, but unwilling to commit to anything herself. I'd worked this out long ago and was not going to wander along with her, bathing in the wake of destruction she would unleash on my emotions if I gave her half a chance. But, power plays aside, she was a nice person. Just a bit damaged. One of those people whose company you enjoyed, as long as you kept a certain amount of distance between you. If you let yourself get sucked in, you'd wind up with an ulcer and most likely an alcohol problem. I headed back to my bar stool and ordered another beer.

"Jesus, dude." John nodded toward Megan, "a man bun? Really?"

I started chuckling, finding it more amusing than I probably should have.

"You didn't tell her that was your sister messaging you, did you?" He smirked.

"Nope. More fun to watch her squirm." I laughed. "Does her good to get a taste of her own shit once in a while."

"You are a mischievous little cunt, you know that, sir?" Then he added. "I knew we got along for a reason."

That got a good laugh out of me. Damn, I was drunk. I glanced out of the corner of my eye and saw Megan nibbling on man-bun's neck. She was my friend, and I cared about her in as far as that went, but her attempts to make me jealous were in vain. She wasn't who I wanted anymore. If I ever had wanted her to begin with, that is. There had long been a time, early in our friendship, when I thought I did. I was going to have to have a talk with her eventually that I wasn't looking forward to.

I took another swig of my beer when my phone vibrated again. I glanced down at it and raised an eyebrow. It was an image file. I opened the message and the photo was of a hand, a small, pale hand with long delicate fingers extended toward the ceiling in a beautiful hotel room. I noticed the fingertips were wet and a line of clear fluid dripped down from a couple of them. The photo was captioned "thinking of you."

I nearly shot beer out of my nose as I choked. I grabbed a napkin off of the counter to wipe my face, coughing the whole time. John gave me a befuddled look and I made a weak excuse of having swallowed my beer wrong. After a few more minutes and several attempts to come up with a witty reply that I decided to delete instead, I texted back "Jesus, you play dirty."

"Oh, you have no idea... ;)"

* * *

I woke up the next day on the sofa in John's apartment with the worst hangover I'd had in a long time. I thanked him for giving me a place to crash and caught a ride back to the bar for my car before work.

Work was an entertaining affair. Nothing beats working in a music store when you are hungover. The loud music was not my friend that day. I cursed that I'd never learned Spanish as I attempted to alphabetize the selection of Latin CDs, when my phone vibrated.

Another image. I'd forgotten all about the previous one all morning because I had felt like death was using a jackhammer on my brain. I may never drink again, I lied to myself, as I opened the image. The side of a thigh was visible in the image, lying in a bed with a sheet covering part of it, exposing the long, smooth leg from just above the knee all the way up to the stomach. The owner of the leg was clearly nude, despite there being no nudity in the photo. That didn't mean it wasn't sexy as hell, it's sole purpose being to show me that she was naked in bed. My little sister was being a tease! I was immediately turned on and ducked into the back room to adjust myself before I encountered a customer.

"You are killing me, you know." I sent.

"Good." I had to smile at her answer. This was a different side of my sister than I had ever seen. I had thought about her plenty, in a sexual sense. But learning this side of her personality was new and intriguing in a way that I hadn't really stopped to consider previously. All that aside, I was dying for her to come home. This only made it worse.

* * *

I leaned against the darkroom wall and watched as Megan lifted the photo from the water bath with her tongs. She clipped the photo up next some others to dry on the line of wire that stretched across that part of the room. She grabbed the next photo from the bath and repeated the process a few more times before she noticed I was there.

"Oh, hey you." She smiled, and came over to give me a quick hug.

"Hey" I replied, "how it coming along?"

"Pretty good. Come check em out." I followed her over the the line and looked at the drying photographs.

"These are nice, Meg. Very cool." I pointed at one in particular that I thought was a great one. "Especially this one."

"Thanks." She replied.

"So what's up? Your text was pretty vague." She asked.

I had been dreading this part. We weren't really dating, but I didn't feel like I should just break off the sexual aspect of our friendship with no explanation.

"I just wanted to apologize. I haven't been around much lately and I hadn't really given you an explanation either. I met someone, and it feels kind of serious."

"I get it. It's cool." She replied. It wasn't exactly a cold reply, but she didn't sound too happy about it either.

"I felt like I should tell you. I mean, I know we weren't exclusive or anything, but I didn't want to just not come over anymore and leave you wondering."

"You're right. We weren't dating. It's fine. We're friends that used to fuck sometimes. Don't make it bigger than it is." She said dismissively.

"Alright, alright. So we're good?" I surrendered.

"Yes, we're fine." Megan rolled her eyes at me, then smiled a little. "Now, if you're done trying to be all noble with my feelings and shit, will you come over here and help me decide which one of these prints you think I should use?"

Clearly, she didn't have much of an emotional investment in me as I had worried she did. Or if she did, she was certainly not willing to admit it. Either way, I had tried to be honest and not hurt her feelings. I walked over to look over the stack of prints she had motioned toward.

"Sure, let's see what you got."

About an hour later, it felt like most of the awkwardness of our conversation had passed and I felt like we might be okay. Maybe even capable of settling into a friendship without benefits. I honestly did like Megan as a person, and didn't want to lose her as a friend if it could be helped. But I also knew that things tended to be more complicated than people liked to admit once someone whipped out their dick. And Megan was one of the least complicated things involving my dick these days.

In the end, she had settled on the prints she wanted to use for the show, including many of my choices. She signed a couple of prints that I'd really liked and handed them to me for my personal collection. I thanked her and slipped them in one of my sketchbooks so that they wouldn't get torn up until I could get them home to store properly.

As I went to leave the darkroom to head back to the house, she called after me.

"Hey?"

"Yeah?" I turned back toward her. She had slung her bag over her shoulder and was pulling her silly ass beret back on. I'd mocked her for that beret more than once, much to her annoyance. Such a cliché.

"Don't be a stranger. I mean it. We're seriously okay. It's not like I don't care about you. It's just not that... "together" kind of thing, you know? So don't avoid me, alright?" She sounded genuinely concerned as she reached for her camera bag.

"I'll be around. No worries. I wouldn't have come talk to you about this if I didn't give a shit about you either, you know." I smiled.

"I know. Thanks for the help with the prints. I'll see you at the show Friday." She grinned.

"Yep. I would say that I'd be the suicidal looking guy in the corner, but it's an art show. There's bound to be a dozen of them."

"Whatever, smart ass. It's gonna be a blast. You just don't want to admit it."

* * *

Every couple of days Amy sent another photo. Never anything actually nude. But all sexy, suggestive, and inviting. Never showing her face, or anything that would give a clue as to who took the photos. She was cautious, I had to give her credit for that. The last photo, sent two days before she was to come home, was of her hips, wearing a tiny pair of black panties. A piece of hotel stationary lay on her stomach with the words "Wish You Were Here" written on it, along with an arrow pointing down at her crotch. That one made my cock stand up and pay attention for damned sure. She pretty much had me around her finger by now, but I wasn't going to tell her as much. The photos she sent were having exactly the effect that I suspected she was going for. I was missing her tremendously already, and now I was feeling like I was losing my mind with desire on top of that. Not that I minded.

But the airlines and the weather could not have cared less about my desires. The day Amy was supposed to come back, a bad storm caused severe flight delays at one of her connections and she messaged me that she would be stuck at a layover and not be back in time for my show. I acted like I was not as bothered by it as I was for her sake, but I was really looking forward to her being there with me. I kept myself busy as hell building frames for the paintings I'd be showing to keep my mind off of the fact that she wouldn't be there. Truthfully, I was more disappointed that I wouldn't get to see her for another day, but it wasn't like I could change that.

* * *

The night of the show, I was a jittery bundle of nerves. I had no use for these things, but it was good exposure. I walked through the exhibit, checking out everyone's work. Megan had some great photographs and mixed media on display. We shared a brief hug, and she told me how excited she was that I was in the show with her. I told her she looked great in her vintage red dress, which earned me a smile. All in all, it was less awkward talking to her than I thought it would be. There was some decent work on display. A few of the local artists were really good. Many of them were better than I was, in my opinion. I hung out by my section for the most part, feeling totally out of place. I was dressed in nice slacks and a gray tailored shirt with a black tie. I was not one for dressing up. Left to my own devices, I would have turned up in a shirt for some band and pair of khakis. I looked at my paintings, framed and properly lit on the wall. It was the first time in a long while that I actually felt like an artist. I was proud of the pieces I had on display.

My friend, John, walked up and handed me a beer. "At least they have hooch."

"Well, there is that." I laughed.

"Dude, you think highly of your stuff, eh?" He motioned to the price tags on the paintings. I'd picked prices almost arbitrarily, and purposely priced them higher than I felt that they were worth. Mostly as a joke on some of the other artists. Most of the artists priced their stuff to sell, as they didn't have another source of income, believing that they could make a living once they had their degree. There was a world full of people out there with degrees in art that couldn't find a job. I really didn't care much if any of mine sold or not.

"What? You mean to tell me you think this isn't worth $1500?" I pointed at the painting Megan had thought was erotic. "The artist needs the money for his drug habit. Heroin ain't cheap, bitch."

"I thought that was why he gave blow jobs in the alley."

"That's just for the gas money."

"Ah. I wondered how you were getting home tonight." We both chuckled.

John turned toward the front of the gallery and suddenly mumbled "Holy crap."

"Hmm?" I asked, turning toward him.

"Your sister is looking hot, dude," He said motioning toward the entrance. "No offense."

I looked toward the front of the gallery and saw my parents walking in, followed by Amy. She was wearing an elegant, tight black dress with matching heels, small pearl earrings and a string of pearls around her slender, gorgeous neck. Her long, dark hair pulled up in a ponytail that cascaded down one shoulder. An electric blue stripe of hair cut through the dark ponytail. Her make up was flawless and accentuated her features beautifully. With the dress and the pearls, she reminded me a little of Hepburn in Breakfast at Tiffany's. Not that I'd ever seen the movie, but I'd seen images of Hepburn from that film a thousand times. I didn't recall Hepburn's dress looking like it was painted on, either. Amy was absolutely stunning. My heart knotted at the sight of her and I completely forgot to breathe. I hadn't seen her since the night before she left for Rome and it was all I could do to keep myself from running to greet her.

She scanned the crowd a moment and her eyes locked on mine. Her face lit up in a beautiful smile and she marched straight to me, gliding through the crowd like they weren't even there. As soon as she reached me, she gave me a hug that lingered a half second longer than would probably be considered normal, but not long enough to draw attention. She pulled away and gave me a swift look. Her eyes saying so much more than we were able to say aloud in this setting.

"Wow, Adam, this is awesome! Your work looks so great hanging up like this." she exclaimed motioning to the paintings behind me. She sounded genuinely excited about them. Probably even more than I was.

"They really do," my mother said, as she and my father caught up with her by my side. My dad shook my hand, and mom gave me a quick hug. They all greeted John, and looked around at my paintings.

"Thanks for coming, guys." I managed to say, fighting hard to keep my eyes off of the beautiful girl currently holding my arm at the elbow in a fierce death grip. I couldn't help noticing that several other people in the room were having trouble keeping their eyes off of her, either. For some reason, this amused me a little. Probably because I knew she was there only for me.

"I thought you weren't going to be here?" I asked, glancing at her.

"No way in hell was I gonna miss my big brother's first gallery show," she said, squeezing my arm in reply. "I had to switch a few flights around, found an alternate route home. I wasn't sure I was gonna pull it off and when I realized I was, I decided to surprise you."

"Wow, that was really cool of you. I'm glad you made it." I was impressed.

After about a half hour of small talk, while my dad concentrated on his drink and continuously checked his watch, my mom asked Amy if she was ready to go home. Amy gave me a questioning glance and said that she would rather hang out here and ride home with me if that was okay. I told them that was fine and my mom hugged us and left. My father, as usual, barely acknowledged me. I was reasonably sure that my mom or Amy had nagged him into showing up. My money was on Amy if I'd had to place a bet.

"Finally." Amy exhaled as she smiled at me. "I kept thinking mom would get a read on me."

It occurred to me that it was the first time our parents had seen us together since the night before she'd left for Rome as well. I'd been so distracted by everything else that I hadn't even thought of it. That was probably for the best.

"You look absolutely incredible." I spoke quietly.

She blushed visibly, and cut her eyes bashfully at the painting next to us. "Thank you, Adam. I wanted to look nice for you tonight."

"You could have come in a trash bag and still been the most beautiful thing in the room. But I am completely blown away."

Amy turned even more red, but she was beaming at me. I grumbled as more people walked up and looked at my work with various degrees of interest. I was soon having to engage in forced conversations about my work with strangers who I suspected were probably just feigning interest in my paintings so they could get close to the incredible looking girl in the black dress nearby.

"I'm going to take a look at the other art in here for just a minute and grab a drink. I'll be right back, okay?" She asked me, squeezing my arm again.

I nodded and watched her walk away from me, admiringly.

John appeared at my side within moments. "You gotta let me ask her out, man."

"You go near her and I'll rip your nuts off. So ask yourself, is it worth it?" I jokingly snarled. I knew him well enough to know he was just screwing with me.

"That depends," He took another swig of his beer, "are you going to rip them off before or after the date?"

We both started snickering at that line.

"This is interesting work you have done here, Adam."

I turned to face Dr. Miller who was looking at the so-called erotic painting.

"Thanks, Dr. Miller." I replied, waiting for him to rip into the painting. Instead, he moved to the next one, a crimson and yellow one that I'd arbitrarily named after a song I'd been listening to at the time I painted it.

"I know you dropped my class last semester, but I'd like to see you come back," Dr. Miller said as he looked the painting over again. "Not to inflate your ego, but you've grown a bit since I saw your last assignments."

"This is more in my element than painting flowers in vases is all."

"You got to learn to crawl before you can walk, Adam. You have the skills to do what you are wanting to do right now. But if you work on the basic foundations, you can do so much more and tap into your potential."

I was genuinely surprised to see him express any interest in my work. "I'll give it some thought, Dr. Miller."

"I urge you to do that." He said, clearly looking down his nose at me as he said it. Then he turned and moved further into the gallery.

John had wandered away when Dr. Miller arrived and was now off talking to Megan and Man-bun, who had apparently accompanied her to the show. I chuckled to myself and looked for Amy, who now had a glass of wine and was looking at some watercolor paintings a guy had hanging a few yards away. I walked up to her as she was staring intently at a watercolor of koi fish in a pond.

I walked with her through the rest of the gallery, as she pointed out which works she liked and didn't. She caught me up on her trip to Rome, and the chaotic trip home. Whenever art snobs would descend on my little section of wall, she did an amazing job of running interference, distracting them from trying to engage me in pretentious explanations for my work. She worked the crowd like a champ and seemed to enjoy doing it. I was impressed. Finally, the opening night for the gallery wrapped up and we were able to leave.

As we were leaving the building, I seized an opportunity to pull Amy after me into an empty side room and kissed her hungrily. Her lips immediately parted, allowing my tongue access as she wrapped her arms around my neck. My hands, taking on a mind of their own, slid down her sides, feeling the contours of her body. A tiny whimper escaped her lips, as she broke her mouth free of mine. "I missed you so much, baby." She cooed. "Take me home."

* * *

Back at the house, my parents were clearly interested in hearing all about Amy's trip, and she was swiftly trapped in the living room chatting with them. After a few minutes, I excused myself to go upstairs and change. I caught a quick glance of dismay from her as I headed up the stairs, and I smirked at her. She'd be stuck answering every question they had for the next twenty minutes at a minimum. I chuckled at her predicament, in that way that siblings always enjoy watching each other squirm in front of their parents. In the meantime, I could change out of these clothes and hang out in peace.

I swapped the shirt and tie for an old Tear Garden shirt and a pair of shorts, dug around on my computer for a few minutes until I found the album I was looking for, hit play and flopped on the bed. Without meaning to, I was asleep in minutes.

"You abandoned me" I heard a soft, pouting voice. I cracked open one eye to discover the room was mostly dark, just a soft light from the computer screen across the room. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, wearing one of my shirts, her hair now loose and framing her face as she looked down at me. I glanced past her and saw the bedroom door was closed.

"Because I knew I couldn't keep my hands off of you if I stayed out there and would have gotten us in trouble." I replied, snatching her up in my arms and pulling her down on to the bed. She started giggling, knowing I was full of shit and not caring. But her giggling stopped almost immediately and was replaced with soft gasps as I ran my tongue along the side of her gorgeous, sensual neck and began planting a series of kisses along the damp stripe I'd left behind. She took my head in her hands and pulled my gaze to hers as our lips met. Her tongue shot into my open mouth and started to explore as my hands slid down her sides, wrapping her in a tight embrace. She sighed and relaxed into me.

I let my hands drop to her thighs, feeling her smooth, bare skin. My hands slid slowly up her thighs, bypassing her panties, moving under her shirt causing her to moan into my mouth. I pulled my palms away from her skin, and allowed only my fingertips to lightly glide over her as I moved my hands up her back, she shivered at the feel of my fingers. I realized, suddenly, that she wasn't wearing a bra. My dick twitched a little at the realization, making me feel like I was in high school again, about to see my first set of real, live tits. When my hands were up to her shoulder blades, I allowed my hands to lay flat on her back and slide down her sides along her rib cage. I couldn't believe how soft and warm her skin felt as I allowed my hands to pull her tighter to me. She exhaled a pleasurable groan in my ear. Her breasts were smashed up against me and, even through our shirts, I could feel her hard nipples on my chest. She shivered again against me.

"How..." she gasped softly, "how do you.-" the rest of her thought was lost as she smothered her mouth on my neck when my thumb brushed along the side of her breast as I was running my hands on her sides. I was gliding the hand back down toward her hip when she suddenly seized it and moved back up toward her breast. I had been planning to take my time and build up her anticipation by teasing her further, but I could take a hint. My hand cupped her soft, full breast, her hard nipple pressing into my palm. More like burning into my palm. My heart skipped a beat the moment my hand touched her, and she gasped loudly in my ear, shuddering and shoving her chest into my palm as hard as she could. Her hands held my shoulders in a death grip and I realized that her thighs were sandwiched together like a vice. She released a couple of whimpers between her gasps, and suddenly bit into my shoulder muffling a loud moan.

Realizing what was happening, I caressed her soft flesh until her nipple fell into the gap between my thumb and forefinger. I gripped it lightly, pulled it toward me and that was all that it took. Amy's eyes were squeezed shut, her mouth on my shoulder to silence her cries, gasping for air in sharp quick breaths as she climaxed at my touch. I continued to pull her nipple gently a few moments longer, rolling it between my fingertips while using the rest of my hand to caress her breast and then slid my arms around her in a tight hug.

When her breathing calmed down and she released my now quite sore shoulder, I whispered in her ear "Jesus, baby, you have no idea how sexy it was to hear you come for me."

"Really?" she asked into my throat.

"Hell, yes." I was still holding her tight against me and kissed her forehead.

"I didn't mean to do that. Not yet, I mean." She let her voice trail off as if debating what she was going to say, then continued. "A few nights ago, I was laying in a room at the Palazzo in Rome getting myself off to a fantasy of the first time you touched me like that. I think I kinda set myself up for it."

"Well," I chuckled, "it makes me feel better about nearly doing the same."

Looking up at the ceiling for a moment, I slowly mumbled "holy shit."

"What?" Amy looked up at me quizzically.

"I just felt my little sister's tit and told her how sexy it was to listen to her have an orgasm."

"...and it freaked you out?" Her worry was palpable.

"It should, shouldn't it? But it doesn't. I think it's pretty bad ass that I can make you come just by touching you like that." I made a big show of buffing my nails on my shirt and smugly examining them.

The worry fell from her face and she tried hard to suppress a smile. "I'll let you have that one. But you're going to have to put in some work before I decide whether or not you get to keep that ego of yours going."

"You are a dirty tease."

Amy rolled onto her side, away from me, then scooted back against me so that we were spooning. I felt her arm reaching back and feeling around on my abdomen for something and not finding it. Finally, she patted my side in annoyance. "Gimme."

"What?"

"Gimme your arm, jackass."

I reached over and let her take my hand, which she curled up over her and held to her chest, my forearm resting between her breasts. She sighed contentedly. Her hair smelled amazing. I nuzzled her neck and kissed it. "I could kiss this neck forever. I fucking love your neck."

The corner of her mouth twitched upward a little and she pulled her hair away from her neck to provide me more access. "I'm a dirty tease, huh?"

"Yeah, you are." I replied between kisses on her neck. She ground her perfect ass lightly against my erection, and I flashed back on the morning I'd woken up against her in a very similar position. "Have I mentioned how incredibly beautiful you are?"

"You have, dear brother." Amy wriggled her butt until my cock was nestled between her ass cheeks and pushed back against me harder, causing my cock to slide along her crack. Her arm snaked up above her, behind my neck, cradling my head to her. "Ooohh..." escaped her lips as the rhythm of my cock sliding against her ass was having an effect on her.

"You..." she groaned "made quite an impression on me at... uhnn... the show tonight when you told me that."

"You made quite an impression as well," I gasped, not quite believing that the most perfect ass I had ever seen was grinding against me right now.

"I'm really proud of that," She breathed, groaning again as my cock made another pass. "But it kind of backfired. I wanted to be pretty for you, to make you want me. But when you looked at me like you did, and told me that... I was afraid it would become obvious how wet I was."

My hand traveled from between her breasts to sliding back under her shirt to cup one of her breasts. She gasped, pushing her hips back against me harder. "You feel so good against me." I breathed.

"Oh yeah?" She leaned forward and pulled her shirt off completely, dropping it to the floor. Even in just the soft light of the computer screen across the dark room, I could make out every curve and contour of her upper body, especially her breasts which were swollen in her excited state. They were full, warm and inviting. Their areola were slightly upturned and only a few shades darker than the creamy softness that they capped, with hardened, pinkish nipples the size of small marsh mellows that I found I was dying to put my lips on. Although, to be fair, I wanted to put my lips and tongue on every square inch of her body. I pulled my own shirt off and dropped it behind me. She laid back down, facing away from me and put her ass back against my crotch.

As soon as her bare back was against my chest, my cock twitched, and she pushed her ass back against me with a pleasurable groan. I felt my balls start to tighten and swiftly backed my crotch away from her. I didn't want to come yet. She gave me a puzzled look.

"I'm getting a little overexcited, sorry."

Instead of replying, she rolled over to face me and slid her hand down over my crotch. She reached her hand into my shorts and grabbed my bare cock in her hand. I let out an involuntary gasp. She let out a long ragged breath as she stroked my shaft. I moved my hands under hers and unbuttoned my shorts so that I could slide them off. She leaned up to my ear and whispered seductively, "I've been dying to know how you taste."

She rolled with me until I was on my back and she was on top of me, her thighs straddling my stomach. I watched, completely enthralled, as she sat up, arching her back up away from me to pull her hair back behind her. It had an amazing effect of making her breasts thrust out at me. Seeing her back arched away from me in such a seductive manner just took my breath away.

Unable to resist, my hands shot up her sides and cupped both breasts, pulled toward her nipples like a magnetic force. She jerked her arm across her face, eyes closed tight, burying her mouth in the crook of her elbow, silencing a loud moan as best she could. The heat coming from her radiated across my stomach, making me even harder. I raised up, moving one hand behind her back, and took her nipple in my mouth, giving it a hard lick with my tongue. I sucked on it like a man possessed, keeping it trapped between my lips and running my tongue all over it. First keeping my lips rolled over my teeth as I pulled it toward me, then occasionally allowing my teeth to lightly graze over it without ever biting down. The gasps above me bordered on hyper ventilation as her chest heaved. I felt her warm dampness slowly spreading over my stomach. Combined with the smell of her arousal, it made me so erect that it bordered on being painful.

I laid back down, guiding Amy back down, still on top of me, with my mouth unwilling to let go of her glorious nipple. Both of us made a startled gasp as the movement caused her hips to slide downward and my cock slide between her legs making contact with her pussy over the fabric of her boxers. She ground down on it, her pussy sliding down the length of it eliciting a shuddering gasp from both of us and I became aware that it wouldn't take much more of that before I would be done for.

I moved my mouth to her other breast and gave it the same treatment as the first, just as her thighs clamped down on my hips in earnest. I could feel them starting to quiver against me.

"Ooohhh, fuuuucckk" she gasped harshly in my ear and shoved her face in my pillow as her hips ground against me. My dick felt like it was trying to saw through the fabric of her boxers as it memorized and worshiped every contour of her sex. With each thrust, she would shudder harder and I knew I was in my final moments as well. I slid the hand that was on her back down and into her boxers, cupping one of those amazing ass cheeks and pulling her pelvis against me as tightly as I could.

"Baby, you are so amazing" I managed to gasp out as I released her nipple and thrust one final time against her. I groaned into her shoulder as my cock twitched violently against her panties, launching streams of semen against both of our stomachs. Her legs were clamped around me like a vise and I could feel the spasms in her pussy and legs as she released nearly muted cries and moans into the pillow. She collapsed into me, her whole body vibrating with the aftershock of her orgasm. We both lay there, covered in a light sheen of sweat, catching our breaths. My throat felt bone dry from all of the heavy breathing I'd been doing.

"My god," she exhaled and swallowed "If I known it was going to be like this, I'd have thrown out my dildo in high school and just snuck in here every night."

My head whipped to look at her hard enough that I thought I may have pulled something.

"What? You thought your little sister wasn't playing with herself in the next room all these years?" she smirked at me. She felt the slight twitch in my groin, and whispered "Oh, I did. Sometimes more than once a night, even. I'd lay in bed and feel myself up..." she began kissing my chest, moving down toward my stomach.

"...to whatever fantasies were playing in my head that night." Her tongue made a trail down my stomach to the first bit of fresh come and began to swirl her tongue in it, forgetting her thought as she suddenly seemed very distracted by the mess I'd made. She made a show of licking all of the semen off of my stomach before raising her head back up look at me, smiling. "And, yes, dear brother. Some of those fantasies were about you."

She got an evil grin on her face when she saw how I cocked an eyebrow at her in surprise at her last statement. "I'll be right back, okay?"

I nodded, as she scooted off of the bed, grabbing her shirt and slipped out of the room. I lay there a few minutes in the dark, mentally digesting the idea that my sister had been getting herself off to fantasies about me since long before all of what had taken place between us. I pondered how that may have played a role in how we got to the place we were with each other emotionally and physically. And what the hell were those fantasies about? Eventually, when I had almost drifted off to sleep, she quietly returned to the room.

She had changed clothes and had brought a warm damp cloth with her. She insisted on cleaning up the remainder of the mess I'd made from my stomach and prick, giving me a few gentle strokes when she was satisfied that it was all cleaned up. She dropped the cloth on the floor and laid back down next to me.

"So... about those fantasies about me?" I asked.

"Got you curious, did I?" She was clearly amused.

"Definitely. What were they about?" I was intrigued and let it show. That was probably where I went wrong because now she knew she could use my interest to torment me.

"I dunno. You did stuff to me. I did stuff to you. You know... fantasies." She gave me a purposely vague smile. I lifted a hand to brush some loose hair from her face and tucked it behind her ear. She softly closed her eyes in appreciation for a moment when I did. I loved doing that for some reason.

"But what kind of stuff?" I asked, suspecting I was about to get nowhere with this line of inquiry.

"Nope. I'm not telling you that. A girl's got to have her secrets."

"Ugh... Fine. Be that way..." I sighed in mock annoyance.

"Mom and dad need to go out of town again," she sighed, sort of wistfully. "It sucks I can't sleep here tonight."

"I wish you could sleep here, too. But at least we can see each other in the morning for breakfast."

"Yeah, but... I don't know. It's not like I just can't sleep next to my new boyfriend." She put her arm around me, snuggling up against me with a pouting expression. "You're more than that. It's just frustrating."

I knew she was right, but since I didn't have any grand solution come to mind, I simply hugged her and held her until she finally, begrudgingly, gave me a long kiss goodnight and returned to her room. I fell asleep almost immediately.

* * *

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of mom yelling for me to come to breakfast. The house smelled of bacon and pancakes. I crawled out of the bed, changed clothes, and wandered downstairs in search of bacon.

Mom handed me a plate and I sat at the dining table to eat, mumbling a greeting to my dad, who was reading the morning paper. A couple of minutes later, Amy sat across from me with a plate of her own and slipped me a quick smile before she began attacking her plate in earnest. Mom joined us and we all ate with the kind of small talk that accompanies families who are not very awake yet in the mornings at breakfast.

When I absently reached up to scratch a spot on my shoulder that itched, Amy suddenly coughed and began doing her best to suppress a giggle. I looked up at her and saw both her and my mother looking at me. Amy's eyes were lit up in amusement, but my mother's was slightly more troubled.

"Um, Adam? You may want to tell your little photographer friend to calm down a little in the future." My mother said with a slight look of disapproval. "I certainly hope you are using protection."

At the words "little photographer friend", my sister suddenly shot me a look. Thanks for that, mom.

"What are you talking about?" I asked, puzzled, as I dropped my hand from my shoulder to pick up my glass of orange juice.

"Have you seen your neck? I think she got a little out of hand."

I felt the rush of blood to my face and scurried to the downstairs bathroom to see what our mother was on about. Sure enough, sticking out of my shirt collar, right where my shoulder and neck connected, was a nice set of red bite marks. Just about the spot that Amy had latched her teeth on my shoulder as she had her first orgasm with me the previous night. Thankfully, mom seemed to think it had been put there by Megan. She'd unwittingly given me my cover story.

I returned to the breakfast table, and sat down sheepishly. "I didn't realize she'd done that. Sorry, mom."

I stole a glance at Amy who did her best to look like the picture of innocence as she ate, even if slightly pleased with herself. I felt her food slide along my shin under the table as she slipped me a sly wink. I proceeded to spend the rest of the meal feeling self conscious about the teeth marks on my neck and couldn't resist reaching up to scratch them occasionally, much to Amy's amusement.

After breakfast, I showered and returned to my room, already dressed and drying my hair with a towel.

"Damn. That photographer chick really did a number on you." Amy smirked where she sat with her legs crossed in my office chair with her phone in her lap. "Maybe I should go have a talk with her. Tell her it isn't right to go tagging my big brother like he's an animal in a wildlife refuge."

"I certainly should." I replied. "She damned near gave me a heart attack at breakfast."

"Still, you must have done something right to set her off that wildly."

"It's a possibility." I chuckled, remembering the events of the previous evening.

"So who is she, anyway?" Her smirking had stopped, but she didn't seem upset.

"An artist friend of mine that I used to mess around with occasionally. That's over with." I went straight for honesty, having nothing to hide and knowing it.

"Ah... The little redhead with the red dress and the nose ring from the gallery?" She asked.

"Yeah, that's her." I was genuinely impressed. "How did you guess that?"

"I saw her checking you out last night. A few times, actually. I wasn't the only one who thought you looked pretty hot in a dress shirt and tie, I guess." She gave me a lustful glance and I felt a twitch in my shorts.

"Huh. I hadn't noticed." I'd had a life long blind spot for these things.

"So it's over with?"

"It's been over for a while, now." I responded. "Not that our mother got that memo, apparently. But that worked in our favor a short while ago, I'd say."

"I believe you." She smiled at me. "I was just curious."

She gave me a hug and dropped away from me slowly, giving my hand a squeeze. "I gotta hit the shower. Tell your girlfriend to cut the shit, she nearly got us in a whole world of trouble."

I snickered and slapped her ass as she attempted to dodge and darted from the room.

* * *

That night, as she laid in my bed, spooned up against me with her delicious ass wedged up against my cock, she asked "When did you know? That things were different with us, I mean? That you felt... more."

"I'm not a hundred percent sure."

"Was it when you woke up with me like this?" Her ass wiggled a little against my cock.

"No, that wasn't it. But thanks for reminding me of that whole embarrassment." I chuckled.

"Oh, like you had forgotten all about it. Sure." I could hear the smirk, and chose to ignore it.

"There was this one night, a few months back... I came home and you were asleep on the sofa."

"The night you straightened my hair?" Despite how incredible her ass felt against me, she elected to roll over and put her arm across me instead. I started to protest, but thought better of it.

"You knew about that?" I was surprised.

"Well, I was asleep, and a felt a hand brush my hair out of my face. I just assumed it was dad. Sometimes, he does stuff like that. Just being dad. You know, I'm his little girl and all that. Anyway, I wasn't all that awake, and it took a second to open my eyes. When I did, he wasn't there. I looked over the arm of the sofa, and I saw you walking up the staircase with your book bag." She slowly moved her hand across my chest as she spoke. "I thought it was really unusual because you mostly ignore me. I mean, you used to. It was the first really loving, kind type of gesture I'd seen from you in a long time. I didn't call out to you because I didn't want to spoil it. I just enjoyed that you showed me some affection. I didn't even realize that I had been missing it so much until then. It was really nice. I felt like you cared. I had a big smile on my face for a while after that. Is that silly?"

"No, it's not. I'm sorry you felt like I'd been ignoring you. I had no idea you woke up. Is that all you remember from the night?"

"I think so. But is that the night you're talking about?"

"Yeah, that's the one." I shifted slightly so that I could reach the lamp on the nightstand. "I want you to see something."

As the soft light filled the room, I looked down at her and she was looking up at me. There was something in the affectionate way that her blue eyes gazed at me. It kind of took my breath away. I gazed back at her for a few seconds, lost in her face.

Fighting the urge to kiss her again, I finally broke eye contact to scan the desk across the room until I spotted what I was looking for. "You see the stack of sketchbooks on my desk over there? You want the third one down. The one with the blue paint on the spine."

"That means moving," she whined.

"Grab the book. I really want you to see this. I've never shown it to anyone."

She unfolded from me and grabbed the sketchbook from the desk. She sat in my office chair and started flipping through it. Her long, dark hair cascading across her face and tumbling down her shoulder as she bent over the sketchbook, partially obscuring my view of her face. "What am I looking for?"

"You'll know it when you see it."

There was no doubt when she found the sketch. She froze in place, just staring at the page. I wasn't sure she was breathing. Just when I started thinking that I had made a mistake in showing it to her, she looked up from it.

"You did this?"

"Well, yeah. I drew it that night. Before I did the hair thing."

"It's amazing." Amy looked back down at it, her eyes were still wide in fascination. "How long did it take you? I slept through the whole thing?"

"A few hours. I did my best not to disturb you." I stretched out, put my head on the pillow, and closed my eyes. "Anyway, you asked when I knew. That was the most defining moment I can think of. I saw you that night, asleep. In my goddamned shirt, of course. You just looked peaceful and... stunningly beautiful. I know I suck at drawing realistic images, but I felt like I had to try to capture that moment. Something about the shadows on your face, the lines of you, I don't know... It just hit me. And it turned out to be the best drawing I've ever done."

I felt the bed shift as she crawled back in with me and settled into my arms. "My big brother is still full of surprises."

"I can't believe I slept through you drawing that. It's almost like a black and white photograph of me. It's incredible, Adam." She leaned back and planted kisses on my jaw until I tipped my head down so she could meet my lips.

"What about you?" I asked when we eventually came up for air.

"Well, let's see..." She lay her head down on my chest, her fingers tracing designs that only she could see across my stomach. "Part of me, I think, always knew."

"Oh, come on, that's a weak answer."

"No, not like that. Hear me out." She continued. "Lots of little girls get crushes on their older brothers or their fathers growing up. It's part of the process of maturing into an emotional adult. Their brother is the first male they become familiar with, the one that is their protector and keeps them safe from the thunder and lightning, the tornadoes, the dark, whatever it is they are afraid of. Until he matures enough to be too good to hang out with his little sister anymore and takes off to the skate park at every opportunity, that is."

"I can see that, but I think your answer is a bit of a cop out." I elected to ignore the skate park comment.

"Let me finish, would you?"

"Okay, I'm shutting up."

"That was part of it. But that stuff has always kind of been in the back of my mind. Like when I told you that you were in my fantasies sometimes." She locked eyes with me again, and let her hand graze my cheek affectionately. "I always came hardest if I was wearing one of your shirts. They smelled like you and it just kind of brought me into the fantasy more."

I swallowed hard and made a mental note to quit bitching about her stealing my shirts all the time.

"Laying here in your bed the past few months, I'd get so turned on watching you paint. Something about the way your hands move over the canvases, it can be hypnotic to watch. You have an intensity to your movements when you are really focused on it. I don't know why it gets me going so much sometimes, but it really does. I used to wonder so much what it would feel like to have your hands moving over me like that." She grabbed my arm and placed my hand on her breast over her shirt. "And now I know." She was smiling as I took the hint and groped her a bit while she continued.

"But that's the lust part, I guess. I had felt something more for you for a while before, but I think I first realized I was actually in love with you at the park. Those guys came over and started hitting on me while you were cooking. They were cute and seemed nice, but when I considered the idea of giving one of them my number, I didn't want to. And I thought about why that was. I looked over at you, your back was to me, and my stomach got butterflies. It just hit me out of nowhere that I didn't want them. I wanted the guy that I felt more at peace and comfortable with than I ever had. I wanted the guy who made me feel safe, who went and beat the shit out of an asshole twice his size without asking anything in return just because he knew that the guy had hurt me. I realized that you were the most amazing guy I had ever met. I knew I was in love with you. I knew I wasn't supposed to be and I don't know how it happened. But that didn't make it less true. I just didn't know what to do about it."

"I was really irritated with those pricks." I chuckled. "Can't tell you how relieved I was when you sent them packing."

"Really?" She asked, as she crawled up on all fours, adopting a cat-like pose, in order to kiss my throat. Her hair cascaded across my face and shoulder, it tickled a little, but I didn't mind at all. She was so effortlessly sexy that it was unreal to me. "I didn't notice that at all."

"I was trying really hard to hide it. I couldn't even look that direction until I heard them walking away. I was going nuts. It's not like I had any right to say anything about it."

"But now you do, baby." Amy sighed into my ear. "Because I'm all yours now."

My cock and my heart both jolted at her last statement. I wrapped my hand around the back of her head and brought her lips to mine in a long kiss, caressing her breast with the other. She groaned into my mouth and moved her hips closer against me. Pushing her away from me slightly, which earned me a brief look of confusion, I rolled us over until I was on top of her. Her confused look vanished, to be replaced with desire again as she felt my erection pressed against her thigh.

I began kissing my way down her neck, lifting her shirt with my hands until my mouth reached the collar of her shirt. She allowed me to pull her shirt over her head and drop it on the edge of the bed, once again exposing her beautiful, creamy breasts to me. I wanted to put my dick between them, but that would be saved for another day. My hands slid down her sides, exploring every curve of her body as my mouth licked, nibbled, and sucked its way across her tits. Her hands were running through my hair, guiding my mouth toward the nipple it was searching for. I cupped her breast in my hand, gently squeezing it as I licked her nipple lovingly before pulling it into my mouth. She gasped sharply, and held my head to her breast. After a while, I moved to the other one to provide it with similar treatment, and was rewarded with an identical gasp. I began planting a series of kisses and small licks down her chest to her stomach, my hands sliding down to hook into the waist of her boxers, sliding them down her hips.

For the first time in my life, my baby sister lay completely naked before me. She seemed to stiffen a little, but somewhat obviously tried not to, and it occurred to me that she was uncomfortable. I paused what I was doing to look up at her face. Her eyes met mine, and I saw a hint of worry in her eyes. I had never seen the look on her face that she gave me at that moment, a particular look of shy vulnerability that only seems to exist between new lovers.

"Do you like what you see?" she asked, shyly, sounding almost intimidated. I let my eyes wander over her naked form, taking in the full and inviting curves of her breasts, her taunt stomach, the swell of her hips, her hairless mound. I marveled at how she alternated so often between seeming to be confident and seductive versus sounding insecure and vulnerable.

"Are you kidding me? You look completely ravishing." I leaned up to whisper in her ear, "I want to taste every part of you. Every single part. You are so fucking beautiful, baby."

She whimpered in response, and I felt her body relax again. "God, I love you."

"I love you, too." I responded as I began kissing her stomach lightly, watching in fascination as it fluttered when my lips grazed its surface. She gasped a little with each kiss, clearly enjoying my explorations. Throughout my mouth's expedition across her naked form, Amy kept one arm draped over her face, while the other drifted across my head and shoulder as I slowly retreated from her reach.

My lips continued to kiss down her body, along the outside of her hip. I could hear the disappointment in her moans that I had passed over her pussy. I had kissed my way to her knee and reversed my direction, working my way up the inside of her thigh. With each kiss as I moved closer to her sex, I kissed more lightly than the time before. Her breathing was increasing dramatically and she let out a groan every time my lips touched her. By the time I reached the base of her thigh, I didn't even allow my lips to touch her. I gave her upper thigh a quick lick and blew hot air over it after. She arched her back achingly, trying to push her hips up toward me. I backed away, preventing her pelvis from touching me, causing her to whine in frustration. My hands slid down to her hips, pinning her lightly to the bed as I lowered my face to her pussy, lightly passing my tongue ever so gently along the outer edge of her already wet lips. She tried to raise her hips again, but I had her locked in place.

"You're killing me." she groaned at me. I expelled a breath of hot air over her slit in response, causing her to growl at me adorably. I could smell her desire for me and it was making it exceedingly hard for me to continue my teasing ritual as my mouth desperately wanted to worship her. Her hand suddenly slipped down, briefly obstructing my view as she started to rub herself. I pulled the hand away and was rewarded with a low growl of serious frustration.

"Baby, I'm dying here." She pouted, as she tried to bring her hand back around again. In response, I simply took her hand and tucked it under her ass. She whined in protest, but didn't try it again.

I proceeded to kiss my way down her other thigh, moving away from her pussy, which clearly frustrated her further. I allowed myself to get about halfway down her thigh, before I lifted away from her and moved directly to her pussy and planted a long lick directly to her slit, keeping my tongue wide and flat, starting at the bottom and gliding up to the hood of her clit. She let out a seriously loud moan of pleasure that I was fairly sure the entire house could have heard. I snatched a pillow and shoved it over her face before she even finished expelling the moan. She instantly wrapped her arms around the pillow, understanding my panic. I returned to licking her pussy, focusing my energy on licking small circles around the hood that housed her clitoris, with occasional dip to lick the juices that were seeping from her slit. Her taste was intoxicating. I could have stayed there and drank her essence for hours.

Within a few short minutes, I felt her thighs begin to quiver and I could tell she was approaching her orgasm. Her muffled cries were nearly escaping the pillow's confines, as her excitement built under my touch. Remembering the sound of her orgasm the night before, part of me really resented that pillow, but it was all that kept us from being caught. I raised my tongue up to her clitoris and using the tip of my tongue like a pen, I began spelling out my feelings for her across her clitoris and hood. She bucked wildly against me, nearly screaming into her pillow as her orgasm overtook her. I abandoned her clitoris, correctly assuming that she was going to be too sensitive for me to continue stimulating it. Instead, I focused on lapping up her precious fluids as her orgasm subsided. She continued to shudder every couple of seconds as I licked her clean.

After a while, she dropped the pillow from her face and mumbled "Jesus, you are amazing."

I scooted up next to her and cradled her against me. She curled up in my arms, making no attempt to cover herself, instead clutching my arms against her as if she thought she were about to fall off of a building.

"How do you do that to me?" she mumbled rhetorically as she nuzzled my neck. "No one's ever made me come that hard."

I didn't answer. I just held her and savored the taste of her that still lingered in my mouth while she basked in the afterglow of her orgasm. I was just starting to doze off when she spoke.

"That wasn't the earliest notion you had about me, you know."

"Huh?"

"The night you drew me. That wasn't the first time you had thoughts about me." She wasn't stating it like a question.

"Oh really?" I wasn't exactly confused, but I was curious where she was headed with this.

"Don't get me wrong, I love that you drew me. You can do that anytime you like. In fact, I hope that you do. But there were times before that." Her lips were right up against my ear canal and she was whispering so softly I could barely make out her words. "I've caught you staring at my ass for years now."

"I need to work on my subtlety."

"I don't need your jokes right now, dear brother." Her tongue took a quick tour of the crease behind my ear before she continued her whispers. "You've stared at my ass for years, when you thought I wasn't going to notice."

She lifted my shirt off of me and pulled her naked form close to my bare chest. I could feel her bare breasts against me and took a sharp intake of breath as her nipples grazed me. She had an uncanny ability to make my body forget that it needed things like air and blood circulation. Her lips snapped back to my ear again. "You never wondered why I started wearing tights when I'd come visit you in your room? You enjoyed the view, I knew that."

Amy draped a long sexy leg across my torso and pulled my hand up to caress her naked thigh.

"I saw you" she breathed in my ear, "...adjusting your package when you thought I wasn't looking. I know you love looking at my ass."

"Yes." I replied, simply. No point in denying it.

Pulling her hair back from her neck to allow me access, she presented her long, gorgeous throat for me to kiss. I gladly obliged, as she continued her whispers. "I love the feel of your lips on my neck. And I love you looking at my ass, you know. I kept hoping you'd slip and grab it one of the times I hugged you. But you never did."

Not that the thought hadn't occurred to me, I thought, as I smiled into the hollow of her throat. I'd been tempted to do a great many things to her ass, grabbing it being among the most tame.

"Would you ever have told me how you felt?" She asked my ear, beginning to breath a little quicker as my lips did their work on her neck and throat.

I didn't reply for a while, considering it as I savored the feel of her flesh. "No. I don't think I would have. I would probably have carried it to my grave."

"I thought so." She replied with a hint of sorrow in her voice. "You can be so shy sometimes. But that would have been a really sad way to live. I hate to think of you suffering like that."

"The alternative was too terrifying to contemplate." She'd wanted honesty, she was going to get it.

"Having a pretty girl sitting your lap, naked, and all but pleading for you to touch her is terrifying?" Her breath was hot against my neck, a low moan slipping out as my hand found her nipple and started playing with it. It immediately hardened against my palm.

"No, but having your little sister, who is stunningly beautiful and who you are hopelessly in love with, absolutely despise you for being the degenerate, perverse asshole that you are is completely terrifying. Not to mention that she freaks out so much about it that your parents get wind of it and you now live in your car under the overpass by the junk yard."

"Well, when you put it that way..." A raspy moan escaped her as my teeth dragged lightly over an erect nipple. "...I can see where you are... coming from." She let out a whimper of appreciation for my lips and tongue. "But it didn't turn out that way. It turned out so much better than that."

She smiled warmly, took my face in her hands, and gave me one more deep, lingering kiss and then shoved herself up and off of me, sliding down the bed to unbutton my shorts.

"I wanted to do this last night, and someone distracted me." She said as she pulled my shorts down and massaged my erection through my boxers with her hands. Her long delicate fingers wrapped around my shaft and gave it a few strokes. Her touch made my cock twitch as if it had been electrocuted.

"You have such a nice cock." She said in a somewhat dreamlike manner.

"Thanks, I guess." I mumbled, as I'd never really had much of a response when a girl commented on my dick. It had happened a few times, and I always felt like the very definition of awkward when trying to formulate a reply. I'd never had complaints about it, but I always assumed it to be an average size. The most noteworthy thing about it, in my estimation, was that I had a small extra bit of skin behind the head, scar tissue left behind from circumcision as an infant. It was a tiny bit of skin, but had the nice perk of adding a bit of extra stimulation for the girl while having sex. That was the only reason I'd never had it cleaned up at the doc's office.

Amy slid my boxers down my hips and gripped my shaft again. I relished the feeling of my little sister's hands on my cock as she gave it several strokes before cupping my balls in one hand and starting to kiss the head of my erect member. She swirled her tongue around the head, pressing her tongue into every crevice she found. She discovered the scar and purred a little at it, sensing the possibilities, I supposed. Her lips kissed it, then she sucked on the scar tissue for a second before giving my full length a long, greedy lick. I felt her mouth slowly surround the head of my cock and begin descending. She took about a third of it into her mouth and then retreated, blowing me in slow, methodical strokes. By the time she began picking up her pace, she was taking almost of half of me in her mouth. She steadily stroked the remainder of my shaft with her hands as she worked her mouth over me, making sure no part of me felt neglected.

I lost all sense of the room around me, every fiber of my being focused on Amy's mouth as she bobbed her head over my cock. I couldn't quite wrap my head around the mind blowing realization that my little sister was giving me head. It may have explained why it felt stronger and more urgent than any blow job I had ever gotten in the past. I wanted to feel her take me in completely, I wanted to hold her head and shove my cock down her throat. I resisted, though. My beautiful little sister was doing this for me and I wasn't about to ruin the experience for her. She took me another inch further in her mouth, passing over a particularly sensitive area of my shaft and I gasped audibly when she did.

Taking the hint, she quickened her pace and depth, attempting to go deeper but triggered her gag reflex and had to stop a moment to cough a couple of times and drool some spit on my shaft. Catching her breath, she went back to work in earnest. She swallowed me a little bit further with each few passes over my cock, but I could feel myself hitting the back of her mouth and could see her eyes watering. She made a couple of obscene gulping noises as she worked, which turned me on immensely. I felt my balls tightening up and tapped her shoulder to tell her I was close.

Amy looked up to lock eyes with me as her mouth redoubled its efforts on my cock. She gasped for air and dropped a big dollop of spit on my dick, which she massaged into my shaft with her hands. Her eyes never left mine. A lock of hair fell across her face, I hooked a finger under it and tucked it behind her ear. Her eyes closed momentarily in appreciation and fondness, but opened again moments later and sought my own. She clearly wanted to me to look at her when I finished.

"Come for me, big brother. Do it. I want to swallow everything you give me." She gasped, gulping for air with desperation. My shaft disappeared back into her mouth, and I groaned again. I felt my body tense a little and without thinking my hands moved to her head, guiding her movements. In my increasingly maddening lust, I narrowly managed to avoid shoving her head down on my entire length, unwilling to hurt her. She bobbed her head fast, eyes still locked on mine. I felt my balls tighten up and the unmistakable sensation of my semen rocketing to my shaft. My hips bucked involuntarily as the first stream of my come hit the back of her throat. She gulped hard, trying to keep up as each stream of semen invaded her mouth, moaning in excitement and making obscene noises with each pulse.

I felt like I had never come so much in my life, and she swallowed every drop as though her very life depended on it, milking my cock dry with her hand as she did so. When she was finally satisfied that I was fully drained, she kissed the head of my cock a couple of times and slid back up next to me, her nipples grazing my body as she crawled up to my arms, wrapping herself around my chest. Even in my sated state, the feel of her nipples gliding over my flesh felt intensely erotic.

"I love the way you taste," she purred into my chest, a bit winded. She started licking the spit and a few errant drops of come from her hand with sensuous relish.

"That was incredible." I was still trying to catch my breath, as well. "Seriously."

"I couldn't take you all in." She pouted a little. "But I will. Just give me time. I'm gonna deep throat that thing."

"I'm looking forward to seeing you practice." I chuckled softly. I should have felt guilty. My baby sister had just swallowed my come. We had crossed way beyond what was normal sibling behavior at this point. I should have felt more shame than I did. But something about her felt so much more right than any girl I been with. I felt so lucky to have her. The thought of losing her made my chest ache. I hoped that I would never have to face that.

* * *

While pricing stacks of CDs at work a few days later, I received a call from the art gallery informing me that three of my pieces had sold, including the so called erotic painting. They asked if I had some other work I would like to show in the newly opened space and to make arrangements for me to collect my $2700 payment. I was floored, as it was more money than I had ever made from all of the art that I had sold previously combined. Amy was in classes until early afternoon, but I sent her a text anyway.

As soon as my shift ended, I drove to the hardware store to buy more framing materials. I kept myself busy for the rest of the afternoon framing up a few other paintings that I thought were suitable for the gallery. After delivering the paintings and collecting payment, I returned home to nearly be tackled to the ground at my bedroom by a seriously excited little sister. I think she was more excited about my art sales than I was.

All through dinner that night, she beamed at me and kept bringing it up to our parents. She seemed so genuinely proud of me. For their part, mom offered polite interest while our father only grunted in response. True to form, he had zero interest in the goings on of his son, the middle of the road student with no interest in sports. It didn't bother me at all anymore, I'd known for many years that Amy was his favorite and long since come to terms with it.

That night, like every night, she hung out in my bedroom, watching me work on a canvas. In the wake of the things she had told me in the dark, we both were fully aware that her watching me paint had taken on a slightly different context. Knowing that she found it erotic to watch me work, I found that my paintings started to incorporate more sensual imagery. It was all very buried and subtle, similar to the painting I'd sold at the gallery. In truth, I was perplexed that she found it sexy to watch me paint, but I really enjoyed knowing that I could turn her on regardless.

It was a little harder to concentrate on the painting process, since I found myself sneaking glances at her out of the corner of my eye for signs of arousal. We didn't really talk about it, but she spotted me watching her, and made a game of feigning disinterest. I caught her looking a little flushed once, despite her best attempts to look fully engaged in the magazine she was reading with the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. Eventually, I decided, it was for the best that she didn't become more overt about watching me, because I'd never get anything done. It would be too distracting.

As soon as I'd finished painting for the night and began cleaning my brushes, she walked out of the room and verified that our parents had gone to sleep. Slipping back into the room, she marched directly up to me and smothered me in a heavy kiss.

"They really need to go out of town again." She grumbled. "I hate going back to my bed alone at night."

"I don't like it either, but I also like having my nuts remain attached to my body." That made her smile a little.

"They need to stay attached, definitely. I have plans for them." She replied, giving them a soft squeeze.

It would be another three weeks before we were finally able to spend the night together. That didn't mean that she wasn't in my room every night, even if only for a few minutes. We spent the majority of those night in various stages of undress, enjoying each others' bodies at almost every opportunity. But we never had sex. It was unspoken, but seemingly understood between us that we couldn't do that when we ran the risk of being walked in on. I suspected that we both knew that we'd lose ourselves in the moment and take too many risks. As it stood, it was all I could do to keep her quiet when I went down on her, which was often.

We bordered on being inseparable outside of my bedroom as well, although we tried to keep ourselves in check. If mom asked me to run pick up something for her at the store, Amy would often make up an excuse to ride with me. If she laying on the sofa, watching a movie in the living room, I would be found sitting on the floor in front of the sofa drawing in a sketchbook. We wouldn't be touching or sneaking a kiss while someone looked away, we weren't stupid about it. But the gravitational pull between us seemed to demand that we be near each other at every available moment. We even had a few mock arguments about something trivial, using our lifelong roles as siblings to craft obnoxious jabs at each other as we had done from the time we could walk, except these arguments were done with an odd twinkle in our eyes and all of the venom we spat at each other was completely ineffectual to us. Not that it didn't look good to the outside viewer.

The weekend that our parents finally went out of town again turned out to be the last before the fall semester started. At Amy's insistence, I would be returning to school to continue pursuing my visual arts degree. Of course, I would be returning to Dr. Miller's class, but was a bit less apprehensive after the talk we'd had at the gallery.