A Sister's Revenge

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A sister seeks to get back at her family.
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I have always hated my older sister. And no, not in your typical, "oh, my God, my sister is the worst!" manner. No, I fucking despise that bitch. And if you had been her baby sister all of your life, you'd hate her, too. No matter what I ever did, I could never live up to the standards she put in place. We lived in a rural area with one teacher every grade of elementary school. So, four years after she graced their class with her perfect answers and amazing attitude, I came along and I didn't have all the answers. My attitude didn't light up the room. To be clear, I wasn't even a bad child back then. I just wasn't Perfect Little Penny. Instead, I was Perfect Little Penny's imperfect ugly sister, Rowan. And again, if you had to live every fucking day like that, you'd hate the hell out of your sister, too.

It was bad enough never living up to Penny's incredible performance in the eyes of my teachers who tried, but failed miserably, to hide their disappointment. That I could deal with. But seeing Mom and Dad's never-ending pride when Penny brought home another amazing academic accomplishment was soul-killing because of their unimpressed responses to my report card. A's and B's with the occasional C didn't often get my name printed every six weeks in the local newspaper like Penny's, who aced every subject every single fucking time. And then I'd hear, "why don't you ask Penny if you need some help?" And to be honest, I preferred that to the "why can't you be more like your sister?" Years and years of that will force you to do something drastic to take the bitch off her pedestal.

Eventually, around the 8th grade, I stopped trying to impress my parents. Nothing I ever did was good enough anyway. If I worked my ass off and got a runner-up medal at the science fair, it only reminded them that Penny had taken home the grand prize. So why bother trying? I let my grades slip a little more. Not too badly, though. I'm smart. Maybe not a fucking genius like my sister, but I'm smart enough to get by and pass my classes despite the fact that my parents didn't brag to our relatives about my report card like they did hers. I got in with "the bad crowd." Did a little pot. Okay, a lot of pot. Lost my virginity in high school rather than save it for marriage like Penny. For a time, I even sang in my friends' really shitty band. Figured it might turn into a good outlet for my family issues. I started to enjoy myself a bit more, though even if I smiled more at home because I was happier, my parents' disapproval was never hidden.

In tenth grade, I got my learner's and was finally able to get some time with Mom in the car. The bitch was a nightmare, yelling over every slight she saw. I was a wreck, but kept my cool considering everything. And that's when the Gods said, "you think your Mom hates you now? Watch how much she blames you for this." And bam, a fucking truck ran a stop sign and slammed into the passenger side of our car. Outside of scrapes and bruises, I was ultimately okay. But Mom was pinned into the car and it took over an hour just to get her out. She was air-lifted to the fancy university hospital and underwent hours of multiple surgeries.

When the doc came out, I prepared myself for the knowledge that I had driven the car that Mom died in. But she wasn't dead. She will probably never walk again without an amazing advancement in medicine and, over three years later, she still struggles to do basic things like write or hold objects. But she can hold a look of disdain for me rather well. "It wasn't your fault," she told me in the hospital when I first saw her. To this day, she still repeats that line.

But then she looks at me like I ruined everything.

I guess I was in a very bad place when this idea entered my head. And really - can you blame me? My family treats me like hell. Why wouldn't I want to bring some hell all over them?

Logistically, it was a nightmare, but I guess that speaks to my resolve to get one over on those fuckers that I stuck with it.

It started on a warm May afternoon. A week earlier, Penny's second engagement ended. Hank was a good guy and he confided me on Snapchat that he just could no longer deal with the never-ending plans. It seemed Penny wanted to get married so badly that she had a binder full of ideas for the perfect little wedding for the perfect little virgin. Hank and her had plans to get married that fall, but then she was accepted into graduate school for her master's in education so she put the wedding off. Hank didn't exactly say that he was tired of waiting for Penny to give him her "flower." He didn't say that in so many words. But it was pretty obvious that putting off sex for another few years had put a wedge in their relationship. I poked and prodded until the poor guy eventually explained that Penny was an "amazing kisser," but he hadn't even felt her mouth on his dick let alone gotten close to his dick in her pussy. Her first engagement ended in a similar fashion, though Derek was a little more direct. He fucked Penny's roommate. I laughed my ass off when I imagined her returning from class to her fiancé banging her fat friend, Beth.

Funny story - Beth and Derek got married a few years ago. They have an adorable daughter. So, silver lining?

Penny was heartbroken by everything. Derek was one thing, but Hank was a perfect guy for her perfect family - pending marriage. And I'm not being snide toward Hank because one, I have a crush on him, and two, he is a genuinely good person. He graduated a year before Penny, majoring in architecture. He refused several big city offers, taking a job with a smaller firm to be closer to Penny. He's handsome with blonde hair that is the perfect height for me to grab on should I ever get lucky enough to seduce him into eating me out. And one drunk night a few weeks after they broke up, with me pushing him to do it, he sent me a picture of his dick and holy hell, it may be the most perfect cock I've ever seen. I made my intentions clear. But he was still dealing with the fact that he loved Penny. He just doesn't want to wait forever for the perfect little life they were headed toward. But maybe one day, Hank will give the freakier sister a chance.

A girl can dream, right? We'll get back to Hank.

So, on that warm May afternoon, I was outside sunbathing with my sister and her friend, Lyssa. It was unusual for me to hang out with my sister, but the buffer helped. Plus, I got twenty bucks on Lyssa being into me. Don't ask me why. Call it intuition. And I just love to play with people.

"I miss him," Penny said. She was dressed in a yellow bikini that wasn't super-revealing, but she didn't need to reveal much to be hot. I hate that she's hot, by the way. I really fucking hate that she's hot. I want to point at something and say, "Ha! That looks ugly!" But there's nothing there. She's thin without looking too thin. She's both taller and skinnier than me and I fucking want to dropkick her into the sun for it. But what really bothers me is that she still has curves. She's supposed to be a bean pole with how skinny she is, not have an impressive set of breasts and a nice little rump to boot. Seriously, you'd think this bitch had a fucking plastic surgeon on speed-dial. But nope, it's all natural. The fucking cunt.

If there was a God, she would have had a fucked-up face or something. Just something to keep her humble and not make her look like a Goddess. Nope. And if I have to hear one more guy tell her that she could be a model, I might short-circuit. She's got the chin, the cheekbones, the eyes, the hair, the nose. Fuck, even her lips are Grade-A. Goddamit, I hate that bitch!

Anyway, Lyssa gave me a look that said I should give Penny some sisterly encouragement, but that had about as much of a chance of happening as Bradley Cooper making out with me while Jason Momoa eats my pussy. Looking disappointed, Lyssa turned to Penny and said, "it'll pass. Before you know it, you'll have an even better guy."

My sister sighed. The shittiest part of it was that Lyssa was right. Derek was a good guy. Hank is a great one. Her next boyfriend will probably be a fireman/doctor/model/veterinarian who fought a shark off to save conjoined twins and then separated them so that both will live a happy and long life. Oh, and he's hung and has an amazing tongue and gives the best massages and watches all the shitty crap you want to binge when you're sad. Meanwhile, I'll be stuck with Kip Williams. He can barely spell his first name. I wish I was fucking lying.

"Henry was perfect," Penny sobbed. "And now...now...now, he's gone!"

Oh, yeah, he's never Hank to her even if he's Hank to everyone else. He's always Henry. Seriously, don't you just want to punch her?

Lyssa reached over and rubbed Penny's shoulders. "Thing is, he's not really gone, dear." She looked my way again and for some dumbass reason expected me to help out. Seriously, this wasn't Lyssa's first time around us. Again, she looked bothered, but turned back to Penny. "Take some time for yourself and figure out what you want. But remember something, okay? There is a line - a big one - of guys ready to take you out should you enter the market again. So, as good of a guy as Henry might be, remember he dumped you and you're in high demand."

Penny seemed to mull over that for a while. Lyssa wasn't lying. I even had an ex-boyfriend of mine try to ask me if my sister was single as the rumors said. I told him to go for it and to treat her like a slut because she actually likes that. What? Don't look at me like that. That fucker deserved to be shut down hard for even asking. I bet Penny merely blocked him after he sent a dick pic and told her that she needed to suck it. She wasn't the type to even play with idiots like that online.

The little alarm on Lyssa's phone rang and we all turned over and re-applied sunblock before laying down in the sun. You might be wondering, if I hate Penny so much, why would I lay out there with her and Lyssa in the first place? Partly, it was for the sun. But mainly, it was because being around a sad Penny always made my day infinitely better. Yes, call me a cunt. But again, if you had been in my place, you would have thought the same thing so get off your high horse.

We laid there for another five or so minutes before Penny asked, "A line?"

Like she wasn't aware. She had muted notifications on her phone an hour ago, but before that, you could hear the messages rolling in. Of course, there was a line. Penny didn't stay single for long and her relationships lasted months - and more recently - years. So, guys that took a Biology class with her in high school and have loved her ever since have been waiting for this opportunity to shower her with their shitty lines and to ask her out. I wouldn't be surprised if Kip asked her out. That is if he could learn how to type without getting a brain cramp. Why do I keep going back to him? Is it a lack of self-worth? It can't be the sex. He tries hard, though.

Anyway, Lyssa told Penny what was obvious to everyone. Penny's a 10. She's perfect. God broke the mold with her. She's the girl poets write about. Or some kind of bullshit like that. I zoned Lyssa out because listening to the praise Penny gets for the umpteenth time made me want to punch my own face into oblivion. I get it. Even straight girls like me would want to fuck her. Well, if she wasn't my sister, that is. Do we need to hear about it a million times a day, though? My God!

"Lyssa, to be frank, the guys you are talking about are disgusting," my sister said, grabbing my attention again. "You paint a picture like there is a plethora of available males that are attractive, smart, witty, and fun to talk to and be around like Henry was. But the fact is that they are disgusting perverts that think an open DM is an invitation for penis pics. Just the other day, one of Rowan's ex's had so little respect for her or for me that he sent me a picture of his penis with an absolutely revolting comment about how I needed to lick his toes to earn the right - the right! - to suck him off. Oooh, I was so angry."

I nearly pumped my fist in victory.

"Guys on Insta or Twitter are the worst," Lyssa replied. "And you can forget most dating apps, too. Just a bunch of boys who wouldn't know what to do with a pussy even if it was staring them in the face."

She looked my way and - I shit you not - I am pretty sure she was trying to tell me she knew exactly what to do with a pussy. God damn, girl, control yourself. You've hinted at this shit enough and I'm not interested. Not that I'm completely against the idea, but not with Lyssa. I'd worry I'm only a stand-in for the girl she wants. To be honest, I worry about that with most guys, too.

"But that's what I am saying. Henry wasn't like that," Penny said. I don't know, sis. Get him drunk on too much Keystone with his buddies and flirt with him a little on Snapchat and then say that. You might be surprised with how much like other guys Henry can get. "I don't know what to do. I'm afraid I'll lose him completely, but I also don't like being pushed into doing something I'm not entirely sure I'm ready for."

"Sex?" Lyssa asked with a grin that may have been meant for me. Penny nodded. "Babe, let me be straight with you. I say this with love, but you're never going to keep a great guy for too long without giving up some of the goods. I'm not saying you need to tell Henry that you're willing to fuck him in an hour so bring his tight ass on over. Build up to it. Start with a handjob or a blowjob. But sex...it's part of a relationship. And quite frankly - you need your needs met just as much as he needs his met. Again, I say this with love, but you're self-sabotaging yourself."

After a pause, Penny pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around her knees, letting her face rest against the top of one of those amazing legs. "I know that, Lyssa." She spoke softly and for the briefest moment, I almost felt for her. "We're not little high schoolers anymore. But the thing is...I'm too nervous to even do anything. What if I did oral sex with Henry and I was terrible at it? I might do even more harm to our relationship, such as it is right now. Every time we would make out and Henry would try to touch me, I would spaz out. I'm broken when it comes to sex."

Again, I almost felt for her. But frankly, I also enjoyed the fact that little Miss Perfect couldn't do something as perfectly as I could. And holding one thing over my sister was a victory.

"You know what?" Lyssa asked, grabbing Penny's attention. "I think you need a no-worries, no-pressure fuck buddy."

"What?!?!" my sister shrieked as if she had been asked to commit a heinous crime.

"Just listen," her friend pleaded. "Get the monkey off your back. Take away the pressure of needing everything to be perfect with the guy you want to spend the next lifetime with. Just let everything go. Trust me, you'll come away a more confident woman and let's be honest, Henry is going to stay on the market for a while. You don't break up with your wife-to-be and get quality offers rolling in. Probably just sluts and cunts."

I nearly piped up and said, "Hey, I resemble that comment." But I restrained myself.

"Just hook up with a fuck buddy and then see if getting back with Henry is something you want to do."

Penny seemed to think about the advice for longer than I assumed she would. I figured she would tell Lyssa to stop trying to fill her head with immoral ideas, but a second lengthy failed engagement seemed to have Penny questioning things. And Lyssa's suggestion wasn't the worst idea. Plus, while Penny considered her options, I'd have time to try to get in Hank's pants. Hell, I'd let him have my ass and he might marry me instead. Again, let a girl dream. Squashing the visions of Hank's thick cock splitting me into two, Penny finally spoke up. "Even if I was to consider this arrangement." She paused for effect. "I wouldn't know where to start. All of these vile boys who have DM'd me only want to tell their friends they banged me."

"You're right," Lyssa said. For I swear the seventy-thousandth time, she looked my way like I was supposed to add my two cents. "What you need is a gentleman. What you really need is an older guy, actually."

"Older?"

"Not geriatric old or anything," my sister's friend countered. "Just older. Late 30's, early 40's. Maybe married."

Shaking her head demonstratively, Penny said defiantly, "I am not a homewrecker."

"Relax," Lyssa cautioned. "You wouldn't be breaking up a marriage or anything. Get in and get out. Or perhaps he should get in-and-out. And in-and-out. And in-and-"

"Okay! I get the picture." They both chuckled. "Still, isn't that playing with fire?"

"Listen, I'm not saying you have to get with a married guy or anything. Just a guy of a particular age who you feel comfortable with. Talk to him for a while. Learn about him. And then meet at his place for an evening. Maybe two. Possibly three." Lyssa grinned at Penny who, surprisingly, grinned back. "Four at the most. And then move on with your life. Maybe get back with Henry. Maybe find someone even better. But don't let sex - or the lack of it - play such a negative role in your relationship."

Penny didn't seem to just consider the idea anymore. She downright looked like she was on board. And that's when an idea came to me.

-----------------------------------------

To be very clear, this was supposed to be a harmless prank. Disguised as the perfect gentleman, I'd convince my sister to meet me at a hotel room and then stand her up. The more I think about it, it was a pretty shitty prank. Not because it was mean, but because it wasn't really mean enough. Oh, she gets stuck with the bill. Oh, no, however will she deal with it? Of course, it might have left some longer effects as she wondered how a woman that looks like her could get stood up. But all it really did was waste her time and, really, mine because the pay-off was so minor.

But then a new set of dominoes fell into place and my evil brain...well, it won over any moral or ethical argument I had.

The funny thing is that had my parents ever noticed me - like, at all - they would have never had the conversation with me so close. My sister was gone for the weekend and that morning, I told Dad that my plans fell through and I wasn't going camping after all. He mumbled a response to me, but didn't really pay attention. So typical. I was in the living room trying to find something on Netflix when I heard Mom and Dad's discussion start to get louder. Since her accident, they remodeled the first floor of the house, taking away the study and the dining room in favor of a bedroom. The half-bath was turned into a large full bath with a fancy ass tub for Mom. All that was left on the first floor was the kitchen and living room. From my spot on the couch, I could turn my head and look into their room because their door was wide open. It's a big doorway, too, to accommodate Mom's wheelchair. I got up from my spot and slowly tip-toed closer to hear them better.

"This is insanity, baby," my Dad replied. "I'm not going to do it."

"Honey, we have been over this a few times. I know you need sex."

Whoa, sex? These two?

Okay, I'm not an idiot. Nearly everyone is either having sex or wishing they were. Take me - I wish Hank was fucking me deeply from behind right now. But when your mom is a paraplegic, you just don't expect to hear about sex anymore from her.

"Wanda, I love you," Dad said in his typical tender voice. "I don't need sex that badly."

I haven't talked a lot about Dad so far and honestly, he has tried to maintain a decent relationship with me. When I fucked up a test or stayed past curfew, I'd get the united force of Mom and Dad chewing my sweet ass out six ways to Sunday. But later, Dad would inevitably come around with a peace offering. Sometimes, it was an ice cream sandwich on a hot day or other times, he'd hand me the remote as we watched television. He never contradicted his wife, but he did these little things to keep some level of normalcy. I guess I don't hate him. But then, never contradicting your wife and sticking up for me when she's losing her shit about me getting a 72 on a Chemistry test - not a midterm or a final, but just a test - that's still kind of fucked up if you ask me. So, yes, my Dad is moderately nicer to me than my Mom. But it's not like he really has my back either.

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