by Lucas, Helen
“For the straight kids,” Mitch clarified.
Turning to Sarah, he added: “And the kids with boyfriends.”
“I’ll take you,” I said. “Both of you. Who the fuck cares? If you think it’d be fun, do it.”
“You’d be both of our dates?”
At that moment, someone passing behind Mitch bumped into him and dumped a plateful of spaghetti all over him. He squealed and Sarah gasped.
“What the fuck!” he cried, turning to the cackling presence behind him.
Three guys, football players based on what their builds, their dull, vacant gazes, and the letter jackets they all wore—stood pointing, doubled over with laughter.
“Fuck…” Mitch scowled.
“Clean it up,” I said.
Mitch reached for a napkin but I blocked his hand, stopping him.
“Not you. Them?”
“What did you say?” one of the jocks asked.
In a second, I had vaulted over the table. He was bigger than me, but I was far more used to hurting people, and I had him in a head lock.
“Clean it up, or you’re going to be passed out on the ground in five seconds,” I growled through gritted teeth, pivoting the jock in my grip so that he provided a buffer between myself and his comrades.
He just gagged and gasped for air.
“Damien, stop! Someone’s going to see—you’ll get in trouble.”
I sighed. This wasn’t Iraq anymore. This was civilian life. And these were kids. I let the guy go.
“What the fuck…” he gasped.
“Listen,” I growled, staring the three of them down. “I’ll level with you cocksuckers. If I see anything like this ever happen again, I’ll break all your faces and put them back together wrong.”
“Who the fuck are you?” the one I had choked demanded.
“I’m Damien Calabruzzo,” I growled. “And that’s your one warning. Now. Go get some fucking paper towels before I stick my foot so far up your ass, you’ll be smelling shoe shine.”
That was all they needed—they scampered to the bathroom and re-appeared a few moments later with wetted paper towels.
“Sorry, Mitch,” one of them murmured, not the one I had choked, exchanging a sad glance with Sarah’s friend.
“It’s… It’s okay, Teddy…” Mitch murmured in response. They cleaned up the mess as best they could, but Mitch’s shirt—bearing the logo and tagline for some musical I had never heard of—was definitely ruined.
They went on their way and I sat back down.
“No one’s ever stood up for me like that before,” Mitch blurted out.
“If anyone ever does anything like that to you again,” I told him, catching his eye. “Let me know. I’ll make it stop.”
The lunch bell rang, signaling the end of the period. I hadn’t even touched my pizza yet, but on the other hand, I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I was done with class for the day.
“That was really nice of you,” Sarah told me, quietly, as she stood, packing her things to go.
“No. That was just decent of me,” I grunted as I shoveled pizza into my mouth.
“Well, thank you—on Mitch’s behalf.”
“So, are you going to let me take you to homecoming?”
She flushed bright pink.
“For real? Are you being serious right now?”
“Sure. I don’t have anything better to do. It’s your birthday present. Mitch can come too.”
She bit her lip. God, that was cute.
Still my sister. Still my sister. Calm the fuck down, Damien.
“Yes! I’ll definitely go with you. Thank you!”
She pressed a kiss into my forehead and dashed off, catching up to Mitch as they disappeared into the throngs of students making their way to class. The cafeteria slowly emptied as I finished my salad and then, finally, started in on my homework. These quadratic equations weren’t going to solve themselves, after all.
SARAH
The next few weeks seemed to shoot by in a blur, but also creep along far too slowly for my tastes. I was so excited to finally be going to a high school dance—I had never been asked to home coming, never been asked to spring fling, and my junior year, I hadn’t scored myself a date for junior prom either.
The day after Damien proposed going to the dance, I went shopping for a dress with Mitch. We ended up deciding on a light blue, tight little strapless thing that actually made my butt look great for once. I spun around in the shop dressing room, giggling with delight until Mitch started complaining.
And then, finally, homecoming arrived, and with it, my birthday.
My dad ignored the occasion but Maria was kind enough to bake a small cake, which she served to the three us of—Damien, Mitch, and myself—before we headed out to the dance.
“Blow out the candles, birthday girl,” she cooed in her olive oil accent as she set the neat little white frosted cake in front of me, candles shining all over it: eighteen of them.
“And don’t forget to make a wish,” Damien murmured off to the side. I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye: he was already nicely dressed in a closely tailored suit, with no tie—he hadn’t bothered to put one on yet. Somehow, Damien didn’t strike me as the tie type.
Mitch, on the other hand, wore a truly flamboyant suit: bright maroon, with a sparkling yellow tie to set it off. I took a deep breath and blew, wishing that we would have fun, wishing that this would be, somehow, the start of something new—the start of a better life, a life of having fun, of getting away from everything I thought I knew: from my father, from the house that made me feel so down and dreary, from Laramie itself…
“One more surprise,” Damien announced suddenly as we were about to leave. “It’s not a present for you, exactly, but…”
As we stepped outside, I gasped: a car stood in the driveway leading up to the house. And not just any car: a gorgeous, bright red Mustang, clearly very old, but well-cared for and well-loved.
“I figured we should roll up to school in style,” Damien declared as he popped open the driver’s seat. “I went ahead and bought myself this sucker yesterday, finally, after my last check from Uncle Sam came in.”
“Damien, darling, you should save your money…” Maria murmured from the kitchen window, but I could see a smile playing on her wizened face.
“You can have first crack at the wheel,” he told me with a grin.
And so, we cruised to the dance in style—just like Damien said. He sat in the passenger’s seat, Mitch was squished behind him in the tiny back seat, and I took command of the car all by myself.
This being the first major dance of the school year, it was packed: our otherwise unimpressive auditorium was filled to the brim with revelers: young men in sloppily made up suits, girls in dresses that left little to the imagination, and our teachers, who served as less-than-enthusiastic chaperones for the affair.
A DJ spun records up on the stage, and the lights had been brought down low, with some fog and other effects blurring my vision. It was everything I had dreamed it could be.
Mitch and I found some of his theatre friends and immediately started dancing, acting like complete goofballs. Damien stayed off to the side, a slight grin on his face, not bothering to wade into the crowd of teenagers. Finally, I bounced over to him, kicking off my shoes in a giddy burst of ecstasy.
“Come dance with me, big bro!” I cried, grabbing his hands and dragging him out onto the floor.
As the music picked up, he laughed, holding me close as we moved our bodies. For a moment, I forgot that he was my brother: I leaned my head on his chest, pressing my own body close to him, feeling my heart beat fast.
God, but I loved his scent, the feeling of his muscles underneath his clothes, the feeling of his body, barely contained by the fabric wrapped around him, threatening to burst out, threatening to overcome me and consume me.
I found myself whimpering as I pressed myself closer and closer to him, his hands sliding down my back
.
I arched my back in response, letting him grab my ass. God, it felt so good: feeling his hands on me.
“Damien…” I whimpered, pressing my crotch into him, gasping in delight as my sensitive core rubbed against him.
“This is so wrong,” he whispered in my ear as he pulled me back to him, one hand still holding my ass. I knew he was right, but I couldn’t control my body: I found myself pressing my bottom back into his hands, moaning softly as one of his hands slid up my thigh. I gasped in delight, my body begging for more.
I was getting turned on by my stepbrother and I didn’t want to stop. And I didn’t want him to want to stop either.
Inhaling his scent just drove me wilder as I leaned into him. I pressed my lips to his neck, to his jaw, and then, finally, to his lips, as we shared a kiss. Our first kiss.
I was kissing my brother. And now, his tongue was in my mouth and my tongue was his and it was delicious and perfect and I felt like my body was going to explode into passion at any second.
Finally, the raunchy song we’d been dancing to came to an end. We broke apart as a faster song came on—the type of song you jump around to.
“Do you want to go outside and talk?” Damien asked finally. I nodded.
“Yeah. I think that would be a good idea.”
DAMIEN
I had made out with Sarah. I had made out with my sister. And I fucking loved it. And not only had I made out with her, I had grabbed her ass, grabbed his thighs, felt her up, savored the feeling of her young, soft skin in my hands. I loved her warmth, the smoothness of her body, all of it.
I suggested we go outside but I didn’t know if I’d be able to control myself there. But, hell, I didn’t know if I’d be able to control myself inside the gym either, so I might as well lose control somewhere where no one would see us… Right?
We drifted out into the parking lot. There were half a dozen small groups of students standing around, smoking, talking. As if by mutual agreement, Sarah and I walked to the far end of the parking lot, where my car was.
Far away from any prying eyes.
“So,” she said, once we came to the red Mustang. She sat on the hood and wrapped her arms around her body.
“What was that?”
“I don’t know.”
She bit her lip. God, but that drove me wild.
“Damien, we can’t do that again. We’re brother and sister. We live in the same house.”
“I know,” I said. My voice sounded hollow. Fake. “I don’t plan on doing it again.”
“Good,” Sarah replied. Her voice sounded the same way.
We were silent for several minutes, unable to meet each other’s gaze. Where did we go from here?
“That was my first kiss,” Sarah said, suddenly, her voice cutting through the night.
“Really?”
“Mhm.”
“I’m honored.”
“You should be.”
“You were a good kisser.”
Her eyes widened and she flushed a deep pink.
“Really? Do you have a lot of experience to speak from?”
“That’s right,” I said laughing, taking a seat next to her on the hood of the car. “I’ve got a lot of experience to speak from, and I can say you’re a good kisser.”
“Just think…” Sarah whispered. “How much better I would be with some practice.”
“You’d be a master. The best who ever lived.”
“It might be a tragedy, you know. If I can’t fulfill my potential.”
“Your potential as a kissing master?”
“That’s right,” she said, not even smiling at the absurd notion. I leaned in to claim her lips again and she pressed against me hard, her soft tongue allowing me in, her lips tasting sweet and fruity from the punch at the dance.
She ran a hand over my chest, leaning into me as we broke apart.
“Damien, I’m so messed up in the head. I don’t know what I’m doing. I just like you so much. I wish you weren’t my brother.”
I sighed.
“We don’t have to tell anyone,” I whispered, my voice hungry and quiet.
“Tell anyone what?”
I ran a hand down her leg, feeling her shiver as my fingers played over her calf, then under her knee, and then up her inner thigh…
“About us.”
“What… What about us?”
“Exactly,” I growled, finding my way to her soft, panty clad mound. I pressed my lips hard to hers again, not holding back anymore. She wrapped around arms around my neck, our tongues dueling deliciously, rolling and struggling to gain an advantage over one another as I pushed her down onto the hood of the car.
“Will someone see us here?” she gasped as I kissed down her neck. I ran my tongue and lips over her collar bone, suckling gently, and then hard, eliciting a yelp from my poor little sister.
“Who cares if they do?”
“Damien!” she gasped as I suckled at her breast, dipping lower and lower and lower, almost under her dress. “We can’t let anyone find out… You have to promise me…”
“We won’t let anyone find out,” I whispered, using my teeth to nip at her skin. She gasped again, jerking beneath me as I slid a hand beneath her dress again.
“D-damien…” she whimpered, holding onto me tight as I rubbed her mound slowly.
“You’re getting wet,” I told her, whispering into her ear and teasing her, running my tongue along the outer edge of her ear, then into her ear, and then finishing with a nibble at her ear lobe.
“Ah… I know…” she whimpered, her hips bucking into my hand.
“What are we going to do about that?”
“I don’t know… I’ve never been with a guy before…”
I was expecting that, based on the fact that my kiss had been her first, but it still came as a bit of a surprise to me. I did my best to keep from showing it, though.
“Are we really going to have sex on the hood of your car?” she asked, as I reached under her dress and hooked my fingers under the waist band of her panties. I slid them down her long, luscious, smooth legs and she bit her lip, blushing in the pale light of the parking lot.
“Depends on whether or not you play your cards right,” I replied as I ran my fingers up her thighs slowly again. She gasped.
“Bro, don’t tease me…” my sister whimpered, bucking her hips into my hands again. Then, I pressed my palm to her wetness, palming her pussy and savoring the way it felt and twitched against my hand, slave to her desires, much as she was a slave to mine.
“Oh, god…” she gasped, pressing her pussy into my hand and writhing beneath me, savoring my touch. “Damien…”
I stroked her lips, sliding my fingers over her wetness, and then letting them dip inside of her. I pumped them in and out of her wet little slit, loving the way her body twitched around my fingers.
“Oh, god, please…” Sarah moaned, pressing her hips forward, towards me. I took her by the hips and rolled her dress up, up, and up, until it bunch around her ass.
Now, she was totally naked from the waist down. I took in the delicious sight of my sister’s wet snatch, pink and aching for me.
I lowered my face to her wetness, savoring her scent. I felt the heat rising off her pussy, and pressed my lips to her, letting my tongue ride through her wetness…
“Please, baby…” Sarah moaned.
And then, we heard screaming and shouting on the other side of the parking lot. I froze and glanced up.
“What the fuck…” I murmured, my lips wet with my sister’s fluids.
SARAH
My muscles seized up and I gasped, feeling my brother’s tongue disappear from my wetness as shouting rang out over the parking lot.
“What’s going on?” I yelped.
“Just some kids fighting,” Damien murmured, turning away from the commotion.
“Should we…” I started to say but my brother pushed me back down onto the car, pushed me back into my miasma of pleasu
re.
“No. Just keep your mouth shut,” he growled as I felt his tongue work its way back into my wetness. Back into my needy, sopping hole.
“Oh, Damien…” I grunted, thrusting my hips towards his mouth, grinding myself into his face as he began to flick my clit with the tip of his tongue.