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s*s AND ME

I’m going to tell you this. I’m going to tell you all of it. This is my story. My s****r’s and mine.

At 21, I was well aware that I knew very little about how life really worked. I spent my time in school and various jobs where I consistently managed to get myself fired after no more than three months. I had read a great many books, so I knew a cursory amount of what writers wished to tell me. I watched TV, and so I had a rudimentary and oft times melodramatic sense of relationships and the human condition. Five years older and I can see this as clearly as I did then.

I tell this to illustrate that I was well aware that I was by no means perfect or even all that far ahead of the game. Ironically, this led me to believe that I was far superior to most people my age. However, I was, and still am, also heavy with problems that, while of my own creation, nevertheless sat me in hot water day after day.

As with most things between my s****r and me, this all started with an argument. From the time we could reason, and therefore choose to abandon reason, we have argued and fought over everything. Was I the instigator in most of these arguments? Surely.

We had been fighting for seven hours straight. It was a new record. I had forgotten what the original point was from early in the afternoon, but it didn’t matter as our arguments cascaded from one contention to another. We ended up arguing about CD’s. Hers and mine. We had everything piled in a mammoth stack on her bed and were separating them. I will mention that she had fully six CD’s more of mine than I had of hers.

This began a new argument about boundaries. My room and her room. I forbade her to come in my room and she did the same. I came at her with some unfortunate words. Beth snapped her mouth shut as though she’d been slapped. She then punched me in the arm. It was entirely laughable.

Beth is of average size. She watched her diet, exercised regularly, and as a result, was quite fit. Nevertheless, she’s a girl. Say what you will. She’s a girl. I have always been much bigger than she was. However, to say I am a big b**st of a guy is a bit inaccurate. I’m the smart one when I’m out with friends, and I’m the one the girls all like. But I’m not a bruiser.

“Keep it up,” I told her. “Keep it up and I’ll give it right back.” The thing was, she looked sorry. I couldn’t figure it. We engaged in hellacious arguments, and she gave as good as she got. However, afterward, she always looked sorry.

But that time, as sorry as she was, she was amped up. After seven hours of abuse, she snapped. She threw her little fist out and I moved, just in time. I snatched her up in my arms holding her still.

“Let go!” She squirmed, kicked, and thrashed her head trying to pull free. Her arms were trapped at her sides and her sweet breath was panting hot onto my face.

“Not until you calm down.”

“I’ll scream,” she said flatly. Her bare feet dangled a few inches off the floor.

“You gonna hit me?”

“No.” Such a liar. I could see it in her eyes.

“You’re just a little c***d Bethany.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Little Bethany getting angry?” I squeezed her tighter. It’s amazing the pain one will inflict on a sibling that one would never inflict upon another person, let alone a girl.

“Ahh! Stop it!”

“You gonna hit me?”

“Let go!” Our house had a strangely intense kind of soundproofing from floor to floor. Put our rooms on the other side of the house in addition to the entire foot of floor, insulation, and the ceiling below us and we may as well have lived in the next state.

“Matt!” she cried in frustration, trying to get free.

“You gonna hit me?” I squeezed harder. “What’s the matter?” I shook her a little.

“Let…” she struggled, shaking against me, “…go!


“Matt!” she screamed right at me. Opened her mouth and just unloaded. We were both breathing hard. Her breasts pressed tight against me. Her body was warm and suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

We were both heaving and breathing hard. She seemed to relax a little. Less defensive. Her green eyes were wide and blazing.

I leaned in a bit and inhaled slowly. I could smell the sweat on her skin. Salty. She pulled back sharply and surprised. I looked at her. Her short brown hair was wild and tangled on top. Her face was flushed. She breathed through her nose and I could feel the warm air hit my neck in short bursts.

I never realized that women could smell so exciting. That I was keyed-up and holding her that tight didn’t help. I kissed her neck. Tasted her. She lifted her head and said nothing. I wondered how long I’d wanted that.

I moved up to her jaw, so smooth and warm. Her lips tasted like peaches. We were kissing. I didn’t remember putting her down, but we were on her bed, touching each other and trying our best to suck out each other’s tongues.

I never thought about how wrong it was. I was pulling her shirt over her head, squeezing her tits and running my hands over her firm little body. The minutes ran together. Her hands were under my shirt, running over my chest and stomach.

I popped the button on her jeans trying to get them off. She scrambled back up the mattress, knocking the CD’s to the floor. She kicked her legs trying to pull her feet out of the tight denim.

She was pulling the small red panties down her hips and over her legs as I frantically pulled off my clothes. Any qualms we may have had were lost in the frenzy of lust and heated excitement.

Her eyes never left mine. My cock sprang up as I threw off my shorts. I crawled up the bed, pushing her legs open. She laid back and grabbed the sheets in her fingers.

I pushed inside her, making both of us groan and pant even harder. She wasn’t a virgin but she was tight as could be. I wanted to ask her whom she had fucked. All I could do was fuck in and out of her. There was nothing sweet about it. She was loud and bucked against me, and I leaned over her like a madman, fucking my s****r.

The thing was, all we could do was look each other in the eyes. If we looked away, it would have been over. I stared into her bright green eyes, watching her pupils expand in the dim light and in her arousal, and I fucked her until I was grinding my teeth as a shaking orgasm racked through me, coming right up from my God damned toes. She was holding onto me and coming down from her own. I felt the first spurt rising up my dick and she bit her lip, almost whining as I pulled out and shot the rest of it onto her, sending stripes of cum all over her chest and belly. I didn’t want to be inside her.

She took a deep breath and laid back, her hips still moved as her legs stretched out flat.

We finally looked away. This was as bad as a thing got. This was something that couldn’t happen. This was the worst kind of thing.

She slid her legs around me, as I sat there with my hands on my knees catching my breath. Beth moved carefully, trying not to let my cum slide off her tight body. It pooled in the small creases as she bent forward. Her small breasts were almost pointed. A young woman, and she had breasts like a 14 year-old. All I could see was bright white cum, like rushed graffiti on her lightly tanned skin.

She looked uncertain. Her eyes flicked to mine and then down in shame as she walked carefully to her bathroom. I crawled back off her bed, twisting the comforter with my knees as I moved backwards. I felt a few drops of cum dribble to my thighs as I went to my room, stopping only to grab my clothes.

I locked the door behind me, looking for something to clean off with. There was a gurgling from the sink in the small half-bath off the back of my room. She was done with the water. I pissed, not quite enjoying the familiar post-fuck urination I usually enjoyed.

Drying off with a dirty hand towel, I climbed into bed and shut off the light.

“Matt? Matthew?” She was at my door, knocking lightly. Tapping, really. I ignored her.

“Matt?” She was still there. Whispering. She’d been screaming at me 30 minutes earlier, but suddenly she was whispering. I turned on my stereo. Played the CD in the tray. It was the one that made me think of the CD I couldn’t find. The one that started the whole thing about getting my CD’s back from her room.

It was kind of a stupid disc. But I wanted to play it loud. I pressed the top button on my remote, watching the blue display show the climbing volume number.

“Matt?” I could still hear her. Louder. I think she kept knocking. She might have been crying, but I really couldn’t tell. I fell asl**p when the CD was on it’s second repeat.

* * * * *

The next day, waking up to that stupid CD, I staggered into my bathroom and pissed away an unusually rock-hard morning erection.

I turned off the CD and heard the hiss of air coming from the speakers. I pulled on clothes that I’d only worn for one day. They were fine.

It was Saturday and I was up earlier than usual. Beth had been up first. She and my mom were sitting at the table eating cereal with far too many different kinds of diced fruit on top. Mom was reading the paper and Beth was barely reading a magazine she’d gotten in the mail the day before. She had her body hunkered down under a big sweatshirt. Her bare legs were tight together.

“Morning, honey.”

“Hey,” I said. My voice was thick and my eyes were still muddy and weary from sl**p. I dropped into my chair, not looking at my s****r sitting directly across from me. Dad was off already.

“You want eggs? Something hot?”

“Cereal’s fine.” Mom just smiled and went back to her paper. I sat there a minute. I poured my cereal. Something with “Flakes” in the name. Its main purpose was to make old people shit. But it was what was on the table.

My eyes hit Beth’s a minute. She was staring at me. Her face was strangely absent of make-up. Anymore, that was a rarity. She looked weird. I couldn’t figure what was going on behind those eyes. I started to pull the milk container over.

“Is this that soy crap?”

“It’s better for you than milk,” mom said.

“Doesn’t taste better.”

“You’ll live, honey.”


Beth was biting her lower lip when I looked back up.

She slid the small bowl of cut bananas, strawberries, and the remnants of some little blue son of a bitch I figured was a blueberry, but wasn’t sure.

“I don’t want any fucking fruit,” I said plainly.

“Matthew,” mom said exasperated. She lowered her paper.

“Sorry.” I wasn’t.

“Never mind your language, mister. I don’t like the way you treat your s****r.” Beth was getting that kicked puppy look.

“Doesn’t matter,” Beth mumbled. But it did. Anyone could see that. Even I could see that.

“See?” I said, bravely ignoring the obvious.

“It’s time you two grew up a little. I don’t know why you can’t be nice to each other. I’m not asking you to be best friends, but at least act like you can stand each other.” She flapped her newspaper straight and went back to whatever she’d been reading.

Beth looked uncertainly to me and tried a kind of smile that looked like a truce offering. I think I sneered and shook my head before she really had time to commit.

“Honey?” mom asked as Beth scooped up her magazine and ran out of the kitchen. I heard her going up the stairs. I couldn’t get her bare, toned legs out of my head.

After mom chewed me out, I grabbed a doughnut from the plate at the end of the table and went upstairs.

On my desk were all my CD’s. Four stacks, about a foot and a half each. They were alphabetized by group. Last time I saw them, they’d fallen off her bed into a mess of plastic cases and tossed discs.

I put them in my stereo shelf. I turned around and saw Beth standing in the doorway to her room. She was watching me. Still in just the sweatshirt, she stood with one foot turned in. Her hands had disappeared in the cuffs of her bulky sleeves. There was something like a cross between a question and a smile on her lips. Pretty lips, I noticed.

I shut my door and went to the large chair under my window. I pulled out a book and started reading. A few chapters later, mom’s car pulled out of the driveway around eleven. Her weekly lunch with our aunt.

I hadn’t realized it was that late. I rubbed my eyes and dropped the book to the carpet.

“Fucking shoes,” I wondered aloud. Under the bed. I reached under to get them. My fingers touched what had to be a CD case. I pulled it out. Hers. I got down and looked under the frame for more. Just the one. A soundtrack. I liked one song on it.

I pulled my shoes on, feeling the plastic in the heel breaking as I f***ed them, still tied, onto my feet. I grabbed the case and jumped up.

Beth was on her bed, curled on her side. Her eyes were open and she was just staring at the wall. I saw a peek of panty under the bottom of the sweatshirt. She turned as I dropped the case on her desk. Her room bright and orderly in the daylight. Mine was always dark and full of junk.

“Found it under the bed,” I said tapping a finger on the plastic case.

“Thanks,” she said. You could see the eagerness to make good on her face. I almost growled in disgust. I headed down the hall and heard her feet hit the floor and then run after me as I turned the corner down the stairs. I grabbed my keys from the bottom step and went right outside. She came out after me. She was tiptoeing across the lawn half-naked as I was getting into my car.

“Matt,” she said, coming up to the passenger side. “Wait. Can we talk?”

“Why?” Why couldn’t she have just left it alone?


“Forget it. I’m going for some lunch. Something.” I put the car in reverse. She jumped in, shutting the door quick.


“The hell are you doing?” I closed my eyes and tried to not yell at her.

“I just want to talk, Matt.” I wondered how many guys she’d fucked. She looked so sweet. But I knew she’d fucked someone. Maybe she did it herself. Dildo, or whatever teenage girls do. I watched her puff a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Go inside, Beth.”

“No.” No. Not, Hell no. Or, Fuck you, I’m staying. No. I couldn’t get angry with No.


“I can’t anyway. The door locks behind you and I obviously don’t have a key.” No. She obviously didn’t. She obviously had a sweatshirt and panties. That was about it. I could see a few inches of her panties as she sat there. Her smooth crotch.

“Get out, Bethany.” Nothing. Even calling her that got me absolutely nothing.

“You have to let me in.”

“The spare key is under the third rock. See ya.” Nothing. “Fine.” I let off the brake and pulled out of the drive.

“Matt,” she said nervously.

“Put your belt on. I don’t want a ticket.” She pulled it on quickly and tried to pull her sweatshirt down some.

“Take me back, Matt.”

“Soon as I get some lunch.”

“Matt,” she pleaded.

“Listen, you got in – you wouldn’t get out. You’re along for the ride.”

She looked down and held her slender legs together.

“Can we talk then?”


“Come on, Matt. Last night -”

“What’s the point in talking? Was it my fault?”


“Was it your fault?”


“So let it go.”

“But -”

“Seriously, Beth, let it go.” It came out harsher than I wanted, but she shut up. I pulled into a burger stand. No customer area. Just drive-thru.

“What do you want?” I asked her.

“I don’t have any money,” she said looking nervous about going through.

“No shit. What – do – you – want?”

“Can I have the number three?” I pulled to the window and turned down the radio.

“Number three, a number two, and a double burger.”

“What kind of -”

“Cokes. Both of them,” I said. The girl behind the window was 16 at most. Braces, glasses, and strangely do-able. She just stared at the half-dressed girl next to me. Beth’s sweatshirt didn’t cover her ass at all the way she pulled it over her crotch. You could see the white curve of it down her hip.

“Sweetheart,” I said, snapping my fingers. She looked embarrassed and smiled her apology. She went quickly to get our stuff.

“Get a ten out of my wallet. Glove box.” Beth did, pulling a ten out and putting the wallet back inside.

The girl with the braces gave me my food and change. She got halfway through her “Thank you for coming blah blah blah” speech when we were pulling out. I drove around, pulling into the huge parking lot of a supermarket.

“What are you doing?”

“Parking the car.” I turned the key back, leaving the radio on.

“But…can’t we eat at home?”

“No one’s around. The sandwiches’ll be cold and the fries’ll be stale by the time we get there.” She looked around and bit her lip again. I was starting to wish she’d quit that. It was giving me notions.

“Um, thanks for the sandwich. I’ll pay you back at home.” She unwrapped her chicken sandwich.

“Keep it. It’s four dollars.”

“Thanks.” We ate in silence. She took small, dainty bites. Why couldn’t chicks just eat the way they really wanted to? Just plow through it. I was halfway through my second burger as she had finished just half of her sandwich. She nibbled on a fry every few bites. Finally, she finished.

“Oh, I have to pee,” she said as she finished her small coke. I was just finishing mine. I started the car up and pulled out into the street.

She changed the radio station. I saw her look at me to see if I was going to flip out. When I didn’t do anything, she kept pressing the seek button. She stopped on some whiny college station. Her face brightened at a song that made my skin crawl. I let it go.

By the time we were pulling into the driveway, she was jumping her legs up and down and rocking in place.

“Here,” I said, handing her the keys. “Go.” She almost fell out of the car. Her sweatshirt went up and around her waist as she ran in great, long strides to the front door. She danced and moved in place as she tried to unlock the handle. When she did, she threw it open and ran inside.

I smiled as I followed her in. Pulled my keys from the door and pushed it tight behind me. I wandered into the kitchen and threw away the sack and garbage from our lunch.

Beth came out of the bathroom by the back door looking much relieved. She smiled sheepishly at me and stood in the kitchen waiting for me to say something.

“You gonna get dressed today?”

“Maybe.” She said it to be funny, halfway laughing as she said it. I didn’t laugh and she cleared her throat and stopped.

“You’re not so smart, you know,” she said.

“That’s what you’re going with?” I asked. “What are you, 13?”

She glared at me and stormed past. I watched her legs leave the room under the thick cover of her sweatshirt. I grabbed a bottle of some kind of orange drink my mom kept buying. I was shaking it like a paint mixer as I went up the stairs.

Beth ambushed me as I went in my room.

“Here,” she spat. She thumped a folded pack of dollar bills against my chest. I caught them trapped between my arm and ribs.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I owed you anything.” She spun around, twirling that sweatshirt up, flashing the white of her panties at me. She walked quickly, making them disappear a little between her firm cheeks. I shook my head and went to my chair.

I hadn’t made it two seconds before she was yanking her door open again and stomping her little feet inside my room.

“I thought we agreed you don’t come in here, and I don’t go in there?”

“Now you listen to me,” she said, pointing her finger and waggling it at me. “Mom’s right. We don’t have to be friends. But I don’t know why we can’t at least be civil to each other.”

“Says the angry girl who keeps trying to pick a fight.”

“Shut up! I’m trying to make a point. God, Matt, we’re not k**s anymore.”

“What’s your point, Beth?” I was calm. I dropped my book on the chair and looked at her.

“Just that we shouldn’t fight so much.”

“We always have.”

“I know. And I’m tired of it. I don’t want to anymore.”

“Is this because of last night?”

“No.” She said it quickly. As though she’d been waiting for me to bring it up.

“Then what?”

“I don’t understand,” she said in a small voice. “Why did you do that last night?”

“Why did I do it?” I cocked my head and smirked at her. “I seem to remember you doing your fair share”

“But why did YOU do it?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Don’t you ever get worked up?”

“I guess.”

“Well, that’s what happened last night.”

“I don’t know what to think about it,” she said, kneading her hands together and looking at the floor.

“Christ,” I said, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “It didn’t mean anything. I just had to do it, and you were there.” Maybe a little more blunt than I intended, but it made my point.

“God, Matt. You don’t have to say it like that.”

“It’s true. What do you want? Say it all soft and sweet?” I leaned down and became the most patronizing bastard ever to walk the planet. “I really loved fucking you, little s****r. I hope you understand why I think we shouldn’t try to make a big deal out of it. b*****rs fucking s****rs is still a touchy subject these days.” I smiled so wide and so phony I was amazing myself.

“You’re such a jerk,” she said. That familiar fire in her eyes. Her lips were tight and her little fists were balled up.

“Mom’s not here to yell at me. Dad’s not home to protect you. So why don’t you just go to your room and do whatever it is you do. ‘Kay?”

“I’m not afraid of you, Matt.”

“Well, bravo. You’re right. I won’t beat up my little s****r. Tell me, BETHANY, how come you never got all A’s with that big damn brain of yours?”

“Fuck you, Matt.”

“Get out of my room.”




I picked her up under her arms and carried her into the hall. She slipped in the door again before I could shut it.

“Apologize,” she said hotly.

“No.” I was getting angry.


“Shut the fuck up.”

She swung at me, her little hand open and her fingers splayed. When her hand smacked into my face, it surprised me. I didn’t mean what happened next. I grabbed her arms, just under her shoulders. She winced in pain. I was pissed. I pulled her close and reminded myself that I didn’t really want to hurt her.

She looked scared. I just pushed her away.

“Matt, I’m sorry,” she said quickly. She rushed up to me, putting her hand on my cheek. “I’m sorry. I – I didn’t -”

“Just shut up,” I said, feeling cranked, angry, and tired all at the same time. She tried to hug me, but I stepped back. I was starting to feel cornered, as if I had to run but couldn’t.

“Please,” she said, crying a little, “don’t be mad. Please?”

“Why can’t you just leave things alone? Why?”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. You’re my b*****r. Don’t you like me? Is that why we argue all the time?”

“We just do. I don’t know. Maybe we just don’t mix well.”

“Matt, I just don’t want to do this.” She had her arms around me. I could smell her shampoo from the night before. I pushed her away as I went to the bed. She pressed her legs up against me as I sat on the mattress.

“Beth, just shut up.” I didn’t want to sound nasty. I just wanted her to stop talking. “Just – shut – up,” I said through clenched teeth. She moved away from me, and I thought she was going to leave. But she didn’t. She walked in front of me and crawled up, sitting on my lap. Her legs wrapped around my waist. Her face was right in front of mine. Her hands came up and cupped my cheeks.

She kissed me. I didn’t like the way she did it. It was too tender. Like she was trying to take away my anger, or pain, or whatever she thought was wrong. I didn’t even know what was wrong.

I pushed her away.

“Don’t worry. Shhh…” she told me. She kissed me again. The thing is, the more she tried to help me, the more she reminded me that I had these problems. I’d had them forever. Got into fights at school. Suspensions. Job after job. And I could just never mesh with my s****r. Ever. Our relationship has always been just a little…off.

She pushed me back, unwrapping her legs from around me, kneeling over my body.

“Go away,” I pleaded quietly. “Please.”

“Don’t be angry, Matt. You don’t have to be,” she said as she stroked her little fingers over my forehead.

I beat a guy into a concussion and a broken nose one time. He called Beth a slut when she wore a skirt that was too short. He wasn’t done laughing before I had my hands around his throat.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” I told her. She just leaned over, held her hands to my chest, and kissed my lips. Fucking…

“Get off!” I yelled, throwing her from me. She hit the floor and rolled to her side.

“Dammit, Matt!”

“Last night was a lark. Get that through your head. I don’t want to be around you. Understand?”

“Asshole,” she said under her breath.

“Get out,” I said, hauling her up by the arm.


“Shut up.”

“Stop it!”


She slammed the door, shutting us in together.

“Stop it!” she yelled, shoving at me with her hands.

“You wanna do this?” I pushed her back. We shoved back and forth until I had her pinned to the floor, both of us breathing hard. I was on her back, her arms were crossed under her chest, and she squirmed trying to get free. I had an arm at her mouth as I reached around to hold on to her little fist.

She bit down. Not hard. Barely more than a faint impression in my skin. She started nuzzling against me, lifting her head back, rubbing her cheek against mine. I couldn’t think straight.

“Fine,” I growled. “Fine. This… Fine.” I reached under me, unbuttoning my pants and pulling out my cock. Hard as a crowbar. I yanked her panties down. At that moment, I didn’t take any notice of how she lifted her hips to let me. I didn’t say anything. I just shoved into her. She was wet and I went in as if we were made to fuck each other.

I still had her trapped under me. Her sweatshirt was thick in my face as I hunched into her, pounding hard and fast. Her breath was ragged and she arched her back, just letting me do all the work. I don’t think I’m all that overly hung, but I filled her tight. We weren’t romantic by any means. It was fucking. F-U-C-K-I-N-G.

She started to tell me how good it felt.

“Shut up,” I grunted. “Christ. Don’t-” slam, “fucking-” slam, “talk!” Slam. She yelped with each ram into her cunt.

I fucked her on the floor of my bedroom, both of us still half dressed, or mostly dressed. The sun was bright and showed fat columns of dust swimming in slants. Someone was mowing their lawn a house or two away. Beth was sobbing under me, pushing into each thrust, smacking her smooth, round ass cheeks into my stomach.

I felt her shake and shudder under me, lowering her head and clenching her teeth. I kept fucking her. She wasn’t crying anymore. She was kissing my arm. Small, gentle touches of her soft lips. I barreled into her, feeling my balls tighten up, my cock getting harder and then I pressed so tight into her that I heard her let out a hard breath as I crushed her to the carpet. Cum shot into her, making her gasp. I’d just cum in my little s****r’s cunt. I pushed off her, yanking out while I was still cumming.

It jerked around, pulsing smaller and smaller spurts of bright white cum. It went on her around her cheeks, and up the small of her back.

She just laid there. I stumbled to my feet and ran to the bathroom, and managed to lean over the sink before I puked. I rinsed my mouth with water and took a piss. It was all I could do. I couldn’t – it was all I thought to do. I zipped up and avoided the mirror as I mechanically washed my hands. I wiped them on a small green towel my mom kept putting up there. I hated that towel.

Beth was still on the floor. She was rotating the feeling back into her hands and stretching her arms. I walked over and wiped her back and her ass clean. She pulled her panties up and got to her knees as I walked back to the bathroom. I wadded up the towel and threw it in the small trash basket.

Neither of us said anything. She wanted to. I could see it in her eyes. They were still red from crying.

Mom walked in the front door with my aunt. They were laughing and carrying on about some damn thing. Beth just looked at me and then went back to her room. I turned on the stereo, not caring what was on. I ignored my mom’s call, sat down, and picked up my book.

* * * * *

The next day was Sunday, and as such, it meant that it would be a lot of sitting around. Boredom leads, in my experience, to short tempers. Mom and Dad were out looking at rugs. Honest to God, rugs. Every Sunday. Four hours minimum – rugs. Never bought one, but they were bound and determined to find one that would fit the living room no one was allowed to sit in.

Beth was in her room. Some incredibly bad band was screeching out of her stereo, making my liver shrivel up and become an angry little raisin. I shut my door. Armed with my own stereo, I put on a CD. Strong, driving guitar. Nothing. I could still hear her noise pollution crushing my brain.

“Beth!” I yelled. I turned off mine and stomped across the hall. She was standing, facing a pair of bookshelves, and reorganizing her things. Her head moved in rhythm to the awful stuff coming from her speakers.

I smacked my hand to her shoulder, making her jump.

She turned my down the “music” and started in on me as soon as she could hear herself speak. Apparently, it was my fault her stereo was up so loud, as I had left mine on that morning and she had to turn hers up just to hear, and she must not have noticed that I had since turned mine down. Interesting theory, considering mine was on so low that I didn’t notice it when I woke up, never mind that it was all bullshit.

I don’t suppose it takes a genius to see where this all ended up. What with Beth and I half-dressed, swearing at each other and fucking like angry, meth-addicted rabbits. It was impossible to describe. Such as had become my life. That was the third time in as many days that we had fucked each other. Each time after, I felt like shit. I knew it was wrong. But feeling her little tits on my chest, and sliding my aching cock in and out of her warm, inviting body, it was like d**gs.

I left her on her bedroom floor, naked and with a mouthful of cum. I pulled the plug on her stereo and muttered something about how I was sick of hearing it.

I went across the hall and locked my door behind me. My head was swimming. I couldn’t breath. I almost jumped through the wall when she knocked at the other side of the door.

She told me that it was okay. She tried to tell me that we’d work through it. That I shouldn’t worry about it. Maybe this was our way of telling ourselves that we didn’t hate each other. That we didn’t even dislike each other.

I didn’t know about that.

I crawled up on my bed and tried to cover my ears with a pillow. I could still hear her. So damned nice. So damned concerned. Why wasn’t she flipping out? Why wasn’t she having a stroke over this? For Christ’s sake, I fucked my s****r.

When we were fucking on her floor and she wouldn’t shut up about loving me and wanting to be close no matter what and fucking Christ, it wouldn’t stop. I pulled out of her, moved up her body, and stuffed my cock in her mouth as I came.

She was outside my door telling me that everything would be okay.

I don’t know who started that one. I don’t remember anything except yelling about the stereo, shoving, and then I’m yanking her pants off while she pulled her shirt over her head. My only consolation was if anyone ever found out, that at least she was 18. Couldn’t arrest me. There was that, at least.

* * * * *

Two days later, something different happened. We were sitting in our rooms. I was going over a course schedule for the upcoming term and she was getting ready for bed. She walked down the hall in a towel. Her tan skin was smooth and almost like a ginger crème. I watched her take off her towel and walk in and out of view, from one side of her door to the other. I put down the schedule and walked over to her doorway.

She was going through some big elaborate lotion and powder routine that my male brain didn’t understand. She saw me standing there and didn’t bother with covering up. Her body was amazing. Her small breasts were perfect little cones, making her seem pixie-like. I was standing behind her, watching. She stared at me in the mirror with those big green eyes that drove me nuts.

We just looked at each other for a long few minutes. She turned to look at me, waiting for me to say something. Her eyes begged me to just say her name. I ran a hand over her tight belly, making her jump. Her eyes closed and her lower lip disappeared between her teeth.

I turned her around and pushed her gently to her bed. I undressed, leaving her bent over the foot of her mattress. Her legs were spread and her incredible ass was just calling to me.

She never looked back at me. Never said a word. I could smell her. My cock rose, feeling suddenly heavy. I came up behind her and slid my cock-head up and down her deep crack. It was glistening with her juices.

I pressed in her cunt, pushing into the hot tissue. Spreading her and making her moan. I placed my hands on the twin mounds of her ass. She pushed against me, grabbing hold of two fistfuls of sheets.

She never said a word. We just fucked slowly in the dim room, alone at that late hour. We didn’t have to be quiet. Our parents would never hear us. But aside from soft moans and a few grunts of pleasure and effort, we didn’t make a sound.

I felt her cum. She fluttered around my cock and her legs trembled. I couldn’t cum. I didn’t want to. Not like that. This was too deliberate. I meant too much. I thought about every nasty, dirty, pornographic thing I could. I finally finished, just thinking about the woman who lived three houses down. I had wanted her for years. I pictured her with her panties down around her knees, bent over and pulling her tight ass cheeks apart.

Beth gasped softly as I filled her with a few automatic spurts of cum. I couldn’t keep it going. My cock went down almost immediately. There’s something women don’t understand about men, and something we’re too polite to mention to them. We can fuck them, cum, and never really have an orgasm. It’s like sneezing and not having a cold. They aren’t mutually exclusive.

Beth smiled at me as I walked around her and slumped down in her chair. It smelled like her. I watched her as she crawled up on the bed and curled up on her side. She just stared at me and had a half-grin on her face the whole time.

I wanted to slap her. Make her hate me for just a minute. Make her forget that she thought there was something between us.

But I just sat there. She fell asl**p eventually. I pulled her sheet up over her and turned off her lamp. She was peaceful when she slept. Most people looked liked they’ve been d**gged when they sl**p. But she looked peaceful. I pushed her hair from her face as I watched her.

Finally, I snorted in disgust. I had to get out of there. Things were just wrong. I fucking knew that. I did. What was more screwed up than anything was that I was so terrified that this was becoming more than just grist for future therapy bills, that I almost hadn’t been able to cum.

I walked back to my room and thought seriously about just packing some things and getting out. But I didn’t. So, I turned on the radio and masturbated into the toilet, thinking about Mrs. Calvin from three houses down. She was dressed like my s****r as I closed my eyes and heard the plop of cum jetting into the water.

* * * * *

Fighting seemed to bring on every other instance for a long time. We had a kind of routine developed. We would fight all day. Nasty stuff. More my end than her. But we fought. Then we were fucking on the floor or against the wall, or over her desk. We fucked in the car once, after I picked her up from a movie with her friends and she was late getting out.

She stopped dating. I told her to forget what we did together. I couldn’t stop us, but it damn sure didn’t mean anything. We were barely siblings and certainly weren’t more than that.

I saw the way she looked at me. I read the things she wrote about me in her diary. Not the two decoys under her mattress or in the painfully obvious secret compartment of her desk drawer, but the real one she hid between the wall and the air vents. I read it when she was gone and I swore each time that we weren’t going to do it anymore.

Although, it was usually just a matter of hours and I had her on the floor swallowing my cock while I held her head to me. Each time, after wiping my cum from her skin, or just leaving her there, still angry, or looking at me and calling me to her – each time, I would end up hiding away, trying to figure out what was happening to my life.

Was this addiction? I would wonder. Was this what it was like to loose control of your life? I asked myself. It had to be. It had to be an addiction. It didn’t mean I wasn’t going to close my eyes and think of Beth on her knees, her shapely little ass sticking out behind her while she fisted my cock and sucked its head. It didn’t mean that I wouldn’t press my palms into my eyes until the image of her little breasts shining with sweat or the way they looked messy with cum had burned away with splotches of popping light and pain. Didn’t mean any of that.

She was my d**g of choice.

Things got more unpredictable between us. I was on a short fuse with her, and my heart raced when we were full on in a really nasty shouting match. I called her names when we laid together fucking. I growled in her ear for her to shut her mouth when we fucked in the men’s room of a Burger King one morning.

In a strange way, our parents thought things were getting better. Our dad mentioned how nice it was that we spent so much time together. I hadn’t realized it, but we had been together more often than ever. I took her to parties and bon fires out in the country. She asked me to drive her to meet her friends. She asked me if I would come get her from friends’ houses, or movies, or the mall.

I griped and cursed and did it anyway. I was hooked. I hated myself for what I did – for what I did to her, but then, there I was.

This was our old routine: We would argue, push, shove, say things that were horrible (I did at least), and then when no one was around we would fuck. She would come to me. I would go to her.

After a while, the routine became a little looser. When I was bored, or down about something that was nothing to do with her, she was there if I wanted a blowjob. Or if she was feeling low, or just wanted it, I would spend 20 minutes eating her to an orgasm. We fucked when there was nothing on TV. We fucked when we couldn’t sl**p. We fucked when we just wanted to fuck.

My s****r had become my fuck-buddy. I could rage and rant at her, let her scream and yell back at me, and then have her clothes off and bent over her mattress while I tried to put my cock in her butt if we felt like it.

We were both at a party one Wednesday night. Mostly college k**s. I brought her along when her friends cancelled on her. We got there, a house out off a massive rural highway. Huge bon fire raging out back. People everywhere. Jerry Lee Lewis playing on the speakers that were wired all through the house. Like veins on the wrong side of the skin, red wire was tacked up and spliced together all over the walls.

Beth bounced away, seeing a few people she knew. I was already angry with myself for bringing her. I wanted to get away from her and suddenly we’re driving around the country looking for a party in the middle of nowhere.

So, she’s off talking to people she knows and I’m standing around, trading stories with some of my buddies from high school. Time passes. Some idiot put an Ani DeFranco CD in the changer and was promptly thrown out, dodging the broken pieces of the CD. With angry, 20 year-old, shit-kicking country coming out of the walls, we resumed our stories, lies, and fantasies.

I suddenly felt someone pressing a cup into my hand. I sipped at it, tasting the icy beer. I turned to thank whoever handed it to me, and there she was. Beth was drinking from her own red plastic cup (required by law in a party) and smiling like an idiot. She just stood there. Right next to me. As if she belonged there, her arm occasionally touching mine as she moved to the music. She was right there. Just…there.

“Jesus Christ. Would you fucking get lost?” I said. You should have seen it. She went from having a real time – enjoying herself, feeling pretty good, and then she seemed to shrink. My friends got quiet. I swear to you I barely noticed. You look back on something like that – you see it in slow motion. You see it frame by frame. It’s all right there. But then? Nah.

She looked sick. Her eyes went from me to my friends and then to the floor. She set the cup down and almost ran from the room. No one said anything. Except me. I, apparently, couldn’t shut my goddamn mouth.

“Fucking hell.”

Twenty minutes later, I couldn’t find her. I mean, how old was she, right?

Say one thing to her and she breaks down? Jesus. All I could think was how much my parents would scream and rant if they found out I made her leave. Wasn’t anything they could do to me, but it just wasn’t worth the effort to hear it.

I left the party, swearing to the air around me as I got in the car. There wasn’t much of a list of directions she could have gone, I told myself as I backed over soft grass and broken cups. Something on my tires smelled, and I hoped it was beer and not piss.

I drove down the road, my high beams on, looking for her. Five minutes down the highway, almost to the main road heading into the city, I found her. She was walking along the side of the highway with her arms hugged tight to her ribs. I pulled up along side of her. Her clothes turned white as the light rolled along her body. I was going to honk, or say something stupid, and then I saw her face. She was crying. STILL crying. Her shoulders shook and her face was a painful mask of hurt. She would wipe at her eyes and then tuck her hands back under her arms.

Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. I mean, fuck.

I pulled to the side, watching her walk in the lights. I jumped out and ran up to her.

“Get in the car, Beth,” I said. Gently? I tried. I don’t know. She just kept crying and walking.

“Beth,” I said. “Come on. Just get in the car.” I tried to take her arm, but she yanked it away and kept going.

“You can’t walk all the way home, Beth.” I walked after her. “Dammit, get in the car. Just stop it.”

She stopped walking but didn’t stop crying. I walked around in front of her again. I was getting angry and just wanted to leave. Screw the party, I didn’t care about that anymore.

“Why are you so mean to me?” she cried softly.

“What?” My mouth went dry and I felt numb. The way she said it. Awful.

“Why are you so mean to me? Why do you hate me?” she sobbed.

“I – I don’t hate you.”

“Yes you do,” she said earnestly. “You do.”

“Beth,” I said as gently as I could, “I don’t hate you.”

“I want to go home,” she said, covering her face.

“I’ll take you. I’m not going back to the party.”


“No what?”

“I’m gonna walk.”

“You can’t walk. Come on. Get in. I won’t say anything.”

“I don’t understand,” she said, sniffing and starting to stop her sobbing.


“How can we do what we do, together, and you still treat me like dirt. You humiliate me and make me feel like I’m worthless.”

“Beth…” I just stood there. “Beth, just get in the car.” She turned around and walked to the passenger side and got in.

“Are you hungry?” I asked her. She just stared out the window. “We can stop somewhere and get something. My treat.”

“I just want to go home,” she said in a hollow voice. We didn’t talk again the whole drive back. When we got there, she walked up the front porch and unlocked the door. I was right behind her. I quietly shut and bolted the door and followed her up the stairs. She went down to her room and shut the door behind her. I’m not sure what I expected she was going to do.

I stared at the door a minute wondering what I was supposed to do. Sex had become a part of our lives. We fight, we fuck. We didn’t fight just to fuck. And I don’t think we fucked just because we fought.

I went to my room. I sat on my bed, not turning on the light. I just sat there. I was still holding my car keys.

I wasn’t completely stupid. I knew that I’d crossed a kind of line that night. Or maybe it was the last straw. Or maybe she cried like that every time. Maybe she was worse off than I thought. Whatever the case, I knew I’d really done wrong. I just kept picturing her waking down the road, crying.

I didn’t know why I said the things I said. I don’t try to do it. I don’t. But there it is.

My first year of college, Beth was enjoying her final year of high school. A guy named David Doores left her at a restaurant on a date. She told him she didn’t like the way he was touching her. Her left her there. I found him a few days later. He was a big guy. My age. Worked out. We went at it for ten minutes. It took some doing, but I got him down. Broke his arm. He nearly busted my ribs. Fucked him up.

I sat on my bed and wondered what I was supposed to do. I thought about going across the hall and trying to make peace. But then I realized she wasn’t going to listen. Suddenly I realized that I’d never cared before. I didn’t want to care then.

It was bad enough that my s****r and I were having sex regularly. Sometimes I’d get home go to her room and we’d fuck for an hour. We’d sneak into the garden shed and she’d suck me off before dinner. But if we were going to start thinking it was something more – that couldn’t happen. I knew she had crazy notions. But I couldn’t. As long as one of us could still see the shore from the boat, we were fine. But if I couldn’t keep it detached – that just couldn’t happen.

Her door opened. She turned off her light. My room was dark. I saw her shape in the dim light of the moon. She came into my room. She was naked. The way she moved made my cock hard.

“I’m not a good guy, Beth,” I said so soft I could barely hear myself. The words were out of my mouth before I could think. “You just have to understand that.” Maybe that was what she needed to hear. Maybe, I thought.

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not. We have to stop this. This is just going to screw up your life. Won’t matter for me. I’m always going to be unhappy. But you can’t do this.”

“I love you.”

“Don’t fucking say that. Don’t you fucking say something like that. You LOVE me? What the fuck is wrong with you, you stupid little slut?” I spat. She jerked back as though I’d stung her. Her hand started to reach out for me.

“Have you fucking lost your mind?” I snarled. I smacked her hand away. She yanked it to her breast. “All we do is fuck. Get it? You don’t love me, and I don’t fucking love you.” I could hear her swallow as she stood there.

“You wonder why I’m so mean to you?” I stood up. I could see her wide, wet eyes in the moonlight. “Because you are a God damned stupid little girl.” Her hand came up to her mouth and she tried not to cry.

“But we…” she trailed off, her mouth having trouble forming words as she cried. “I thought we were…”

“What? You thought we were a couple? Did you think I was going to take you around and tell everyone you were my special favorite girl?” She choked on a sob. “Did you think we’d just run off and live together forever? Maybe we could get a house together? Hmm? Sure. We could pretend to be married. Wouldn’t that be like a fairy tale come true? Fucking idiot. You’re someone I can fuck, Beth.”

She turned and ran to her room. I watched her shut her door and then I heard her crying. Sobbing. Great, racking sobs. I just stood there listening to her. I could feel a pit forming in my stomach. Finally, she quieted down. I didn’t hear anything. I don’t know how long I listened. I just remember realizing I was on the floor and I didn’t recall sitting down.

I woke up in the dark. She was there. Standing over me. Her hand was brushing my hair back. Shadows on her face changed. I think she smiled.

It was as if a hole opened under me and I just kept falling. I took her by the arm and pulled her to the bed. She was still naked. I was too. I didn’t remember taking my clothes off.

“Matt-” I clamped my hand over her mouth. I leaned over her.

“Don’t fucking talk. Don’t.” I couldn’t quite manage to get angry. I pulled my hand away and reached down between us. I pushed in all the way, making both of us gasp. I saw her smile.

“Stop it,” I told her. I closed my eyes and started fucking her. Hard. She thought this was some kind of make-up sex. Fucking…it was just US. It was what we had become. If she’d just left it alone, and gone to bed, the next morning we would have been different. If she’d been able to see, just for a second what we really were, we would have been fine. I opened my eyes.

As I held myself over her, sliding in and out of her tight cunt, listing to her moan softly, feeling her breath on my face – as I did this, I told her how much I hated her. I told her how stupid she was. THIS, I ground out, was why I did what I did. It was her fault.

She clamped her legs to my sides and pulled me tight with each thrust. Her moans turned to faint sobs and her hands covered her face. We were a spiraling mess of a car wreck.

We didn’t talk the rest of the night. She slept in my bed and, so help me, I held her as tight to my body as I could possibly manage. She was killing me a little at a time.

Have you ever felt a crying girl cum?

* * * * *

You have to understand that this wasn’t a few weeks. We didn’t do this for a month. This tornado that was our life, raged quietly for a year. Holidays, birthdays, everyday – it went on much longer than it should ever have done.

Beth had changed in that year. We still argued and fought. But when we were alone, when we were sitting together at night, she was sweet and gentle and she drove me nuts. Her hair was long by then. It brushed my skin when she leaned over to suck me. She still cried, because I was still a first-rate jackass.

I still told her she was stupid. But even I hardly believed me anymore.

She sat in my chair with me at night. Her naked body settling into mine as we played some idiot CD she liked. I was a wreck. Worst of all – the absolute nail in my coffin, was the dawning realization that I loved her. I treated her like hell. I did everything I could to drive her away. I did it for her. When she laid under me and tears streamed down her face as I fucked her, I would inwardly cheer. This was it, I would think. She’d finally had enough. When I would feel the soles of her feet on my hips as I pushed deep into her cunt, I would want to scream in frustration because she was forgiving me all over again.

I finished school. Beth and I celebrated together after our parents went to bed. It was just like every other night. But this time I didn’t tell her she was stupid. I didn’t get mad at her and tell her to shut-up. When I came inside her, I leaned down and whispered in her ear.

“I love you.”

She pulled me down and held me inside her while she cried. She kissed me until I pulled out of her. The joy on her face was a wonder. Truly, it was a thing to treasure. Something inside was screaming at me.

Beth slept peacefully curled up on my bed. She was naming our c***dren in her dreams. I packed everything I could manage. I didn’t wake her. I just moved silently. As I pulled my car out of the drive an hour before sunrise, I knew this was all I could do. I would always be unhappy. I was just that kind of guy. She would have better. I wasn’t going to let her screw up like me. That’s why I did everything I did. That’s why I did it. Me leaving – that gave her a chance.

It was all I could do.

Updated: October 20, 2016 — 9:42 pm

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