Best Big Brother Ever Ch. 02

Terror stalked me as I drove: I knew that one little mistake on my part would be all it would take to get us into our own catastrophe. Somehow, I held my fear at bay and drove on. The reassuring weight of her loving hand on my thigh anchored me, and I could do what had to be done—what it was up to me alone to do. It took strength, but it wasn't my strength that brought us through. It was the strength of her trust.

It didn't last long. We passed only a few minutes, and even fewer miles, in silence before the weather abated. The sky remained overcast, but the snow stopped falling; the road was clear and dry. Traffic returned to normal. It seemed not to have snowed here at all, or even rained. An off-ramp appeared, and I left the highway. I pulled into the empty parking lot of an old restaurant that had seen better days and seemed to have been long closed.

When I had parked the car and shut it off, we spent an indeterminate amount of time in each other's arms. Neither of us had ever before experienced Death's unpitying presence, raw and unfiltered, so there seemed little to say. We both remained wordless. But I was grateful for the life in the body my arms now held, and I think she was grateful for the life in my body.

I was still shaken, but beginning to feel like myself, when I said, "If you'll be okay, I think we'd better get back on the road."

"Yeah," she answered. "I'm feeling better. We should."

I backed up from her a bit, without letting her out of my arms or pulling away from hers, and I looked into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm better," she said. "I'll be fine if you think you're ready to drive again." And she reached for a kiss.

It turned into a long, tender, loving kiss. We both opened our mouths, and we engaged our tongues, but there was little of lust in that kiss—only an intimate acknowledgement that we had seen and felt the same things in the past hour.

As I drove back toward the highway's on-ramp, she said, "Bryan, I'm really glad that Mom made us do this together. I don't think I could have gotten through that snowstorm by myself."

I knew, then, and I think she knew, too, that she had really meant that she was glad that she hadn't driven through horror by herself.

==||<>||==

An hour later, traffic had grown heavier and we were in the metropolitan area. We'd had little to say to each other; both of us were in a state of shock, and I'd driven the distance pretty much on automatic pilot. It took us still another forty minutes or so to reach her apartment building in the city's heavy traffic. It was only mid-afternoon, but the winter sun sets early in Seattle's northern latitude, and it seemed to me much later than that. And, as is so frequent in Seattle, a light drizzle fell from an overcast sky. The gloom did nothing to relieve our somber mood.

I parked the car in her spot in the residents' parking lot on the lower level of the building, and we carried our suitcases up to her third-floor apartment. We had barely closed the door and set our luggage down when she was in my arms, I in hers.

We stood there, clinging to each other, our bodies rocking back and forth in unison, for a while—finding comfort and reassurance in each other. At length, we backed away from each other, maintaining our embrace but far enough away to be able to look into each other's eyes. I saw that hers were moist. She was near tears, but they didn't come.

"Oh, Bryan," she said. "That was terrible. That poor guy was probably on his way back to school from Christmas break with his folks. I really feel sorry for his family."

"At least he got to spend some time with them before…" I answered. I trailed off because I'd started a sentence that I didn't need to complete. Then, still looking into her eyes, I asked, "Are you okay?"

"I'm sad," she said. "And I feel awful for that poor man. …and for his family. It hurts. But I'm alive!" She paused and reached for a kiss. After a brief one, close-lipped, she continued, "And you're alive! And I love you and we'll feel better in time. So, yes. Yes. I'm okay. What about you?"

I thought about it. Emotions roiled within me: Sorrow, horror, sympathy, shock, and, yes, pain. Preeminent among my emotions, though, was gratitude—it hadn't been us. "You're right," I said. "We're alive! And it does hurt. But I know it will get better. I'm okay. And, most of all, I love you, too,"

And as I said those last words, the most important words of all, the comforting pressure of her soft, curved, female body against my own male body became more—much, much more. The gentle aromas of her body had been floating into my nostrils as we embraced, but now they captured my attention. Her tits pressed against my chest, and her flat little waist lay against my cock, which now began to stiffen.

Evidently, similar forces worked in her, because we reached together for a kiss. It was a deep kiss; our tongues wrestled happily with each other and we pressed ourselves even more firmly against each other.

"I love you so much, Vicki," I murmured into her ear when the kiss ended. I relinquished my arms' embrace, freeing my hands to caress her, to roam her body—feeling and being felt.

"I love you, too, Bryan. I'm so glad we're together now," she answered. "I need you so!"

She released me and took my hand. "This way," she said, as she stepped deeper into her apartment, pulling me with her as she headed through a short passage into her living room.

Seconds later, we were in her bedroom. She turned back toward me and came again into my arms, embracing me as she did. We kissed again. Again, my hands wandered her body; she moaned in response.

We didn't then understand that our encounter with Death had been brief and distant—as those encounters go. But it had more than sufficed to trigger primal reactions in us. Elemental lust, blind and unthinking, ruled us, and it was only a matter of seconds before we lay naked, facing each other, in her bed. For a few moments, we continued to kiss and caress each other, but Nature's goal—her goal of reaffirming love and life in the face of uncaring Death—would not be denied or even delayed. Compulsion lay upon us, and soon, very soon, we rolled her onto her back. She parted her thighs as I rolled to mount her.

It had been all of, perhaps, three minutes since we had entered the apartment, but her pussy was already hot and wet. My cock slid easily into her—all the way into her—eliciting her prolonged and grateful moan as it did. Immediately, unthinkingly, I withdrew all but my tip and thrust myself back. I did it again, and as I did, she rocked her hips in response. We moaned our passion at each other, before our lips joined again in another deep kiss and as our hips intensified their rhythmic motion.

It couldn't last. It didn't. Soon, soon, altogether too soon, we exploded together. She thrashed under me, sobbing and shrieking her ecstasy. I thrust my throbbing cock deep into her body, and my cum—my life-affirming cum—pulsed into her depths.

For a time, we lay together, naked, warm, spent. Of the world around me, I was insensible, knowing of it only her part in our bodies' union. Eventually, my ability to think returned, and with it came the sure knowledge that she lived, that I lived, and that we would support each other while life lasted. I knew, too, that horror receded rapidly now. Her love, emotional and physical, would heal me—had already begun to heal me; mine, I hoped, would help heal her.

She stirred under me, where I had collapsed into her encircling arms and legs, and I raised my head. I sought her lips and, finding them, I kissed her. She returned the kiss, and when it broke, I looked into her eyes. She looked back, smiling her love at me. "That was amazing," she said.

"Anything…" I replied, and I smiled my deepening love at her. "…anything for my little sister."

She rocked her hips under me, delivering a hot, slippery caress to the cock her pussy still clasped. My own hips rocked in response, but this had been our third time in fourteen hours, and nothing more interesting was going to happen just then.

Her smile deepened, and I knew that it signified the deepening of her own love. "And anything…" she said, "…anything at all for the best big brother ever!"

==||<>||==

Hunger drove us out of her bed after we'd lain in each other's arms for an hour or so. There were a number of places where we could find food nearby. We weren't picky, and we found something inexpensive in easy walking distance.

It was dark when we returned to her apartment, and we were both surprisingly tired. We went to bed immediately, together, naked. I lay in her arms, loving and being loved, savoring both. It was an entirely new experience: Never before had I lain naked in bed with a naked woman, enjoying the touch of her body against mine simply for its presence—and not for the lust she engendered.

We talked, briefly, vaguely, haltingly—tender confessions of love and trust, for the most part. And then, after a lengthier pause than usual, her breathing slowed and her body relaxed. With a sense of wonder, I realized that she had fallen asleep in my arms. Nor was it very long after that before I fell asleep in hers.

==||<>||==

I slept reasonably well—though I was dimly aware of Vicki's unaccustomed presence beside me through the night. My plane back to Denver didn't leave until mid-afternoon, so we hadn't bothered to set an alarm clock. Thus, another of Seattle's gray winter days was well under way when I woke on my right side to find my naked little sister backed up against me. One of my arms was under her pillow, the other draped over her waist. My hand sought, found the firm round flesh of a tit, and my cock—hard, as usual when I regained consciousness in the morning—rested happily in the cleft between her ass cheeks.

She stirred in my arms; she was waking, too. Simultaneously, I squeezed her boob, twitched my cock against her, and planted a warm, wet kiss on the back of her neck.

She responded with a pleased moan, squeezed my cock between her cheeks, and said, "What a nice way to wake up!"

"I can't disagree," I said, repeating the actions that had caused her replies.

She squirmed against me, lay still for a few seconds, and then turned over in my arms to face me. Once she'd turned, she wasted no time in seeking the day's first kiss. As she turned, my cock pulled out of the interesting place where it had been, but she had taken care that, after she turned, it pressed even more happily against her pussy—where it rubbed along her furrow as she rocked her hips.

An indefinite time later, when the kiss had ended, she looked me in the eyes and said, "Somebody—I won't mention any names—has dragon-breath this morning."

It was hard to think because of the way her hot track moved against my cock, but I managed. "I couldn't help noticing," I said. "You really ought to wake up a few minutes earlier than me and brush your teeth before we kiss."

That brought me the expected punch, but it also brought me another kiss. When that one ended, I said, "But, hey! What's a little dragon-breath between friends?".

"Just like a man!' she observed. "Rub his thing a little, and he forgets annoyances!"

"Speaking of things," I said, as I pulled away from her and reached for her pussy. T hen, sliding a finger along her folds, I offerec, "Maybe I'll play with yours.

Her hips rocked more strongly at my touch, and she moaned again. "Annoyances? What annoyances?" she asked, and then reached to kiss me again. Her pussy grew moist, slippery, at my touch.

I pulled away from our kiss and bent to seek a nipple. Finding one, I covered my teeth with my lips and sucked the little projection into my mouth, where I pressed it against the roof of my mouth with my tongue. That action elicited still another moan. Her hips continued to rock against the finger that now concentrated on tickling her clit.

"Oh, God!" she exclaimed. "You feel so good, Bry!"

I interrupted what I was doing to her nipple to ask, "Which is better? …finger? …or mouth?"

She shivered against me. "Not fair!" she answered, as I returned to her nipple. "I can't tell. It's…" She shuddered again, and then continued, "…it's all connected!"

I worked some more on nipple and clit, listening to her moans and enjoying the way she shuddered and squirmed against me. Her thighs, which had parted to make it easier for my hand to find her center, moved slowly upward, and then she pleaded, "Bry? I want you in me! Please! Let's!"

"I want you, too, Vicki," I answered as I moved over her and between her legs, "more than I've ever wanted anything or anyone," As I moved, she took my boner into her hand. I lowered myself, and she guided me into her hot, wet, clasping sheath.

For a moment, we lay there unmoving, looking each into the other's eyes, savoring our intimate connection. I wanted that moment to last forever, but of course it couldn't. Our bodies had a different idea, and soon we moved in concert, stroking my cock into her pussy and out, into her and out, deep into her and out, again, again, again, and again. Desire mounted within us and became Need. We strove on, and all-consuming friction turned Need into Compulsion.

I arrived at the pinnacle first, but as I made that final thrust into her body and felt my cum flow, white-hot, into her, her ecstasy joined mine. Her body stiffened, and she thrust herself against me, so that we buried my cock's entire length in her. Mindless sounds, altogether meaningless, came from our mouths as we struggled to bury my sperm where our bodies insisted we should leave it. I fell, then, limp, motionless, upon her, while still she thrashed under me. Even in my state of near unconsciousness, I felt her contract repeatedly around my cock; my hips responded by thrusting me, but weakly, weakly, in and out of her.

Then it was over, and she, too, subsided. We lay together in a tangle of arms and legs, motionless, outside of time, unaware of the world around us. My cock shrank slowly but remained embedded in her loving body. Gradually, I became aware of my chest, rising and falling as my body tried to replenish the oxygen I'd forgotten I needed. Soon, I was aware of her breathing. Her arms reached to encompass me, while her lips pressed moistly against my neck.

I summoned all of my will and turned to deliver a kiss to her neck, where I found it next to the resting place where my head lay beside hers. "I love you," I said. "I love you so much."

"Me, too," was all she said. But she turned her head and our lips met yet again. In that kiss, I told her how deeply I valued what we had just accomplished with, and for, each other.

It wasn't long before my cock softened, flopped out of her. Still we lay in each other's arms, lost in the feeling of body against body. After a while, she stirred in my arms. "Are you okay?" she asked. "After…" She paused, then continued, "…after yesterday?"

I raised my head to look into her eyes. She didn't have to remind me of what we'd been through; I knew what she meant, and she knew that I knew. "Yes," I said. "I think so. It was hard, and I'm sorry we had to see what we saw. But I'm a lot better than I was when we got here yesterday. How about you?"

"I'm better," she said. "Maybe not a hundred percent, yet. But better. I'll be fine."

I kissed her, and we lay in each other's arms again.

"I'm not a little girl anymore," she said. "I love you, and I need to share your pain. Why did you try to stop me from looking?"

I thought for a moment before I answered her, "If I'd just burned my hand on a hot stove, and then I saw you reaching to touch that same stove, I'd stop you. You don't have to feel my pain to share it with me."

"Okay," she said. "Thanks. That makes sense—good sense. I was afraid that you thought you were Being A Man, protecting your woman. Protecting her from life. I don't want that. But if I could, I'd stop you from burning yourself, too."

I laid my head back down beside her, and I felt the warm, moist touch of her lips on my neck.

"We should get a shower, and get moving," she said, after a bit.

I kissed her neck again; she kissed mine. "Sounds good," I said. And, ever the gentleman, I continued, "Want to go first?"

"You weren't listening," she replied. "I said, 'We should get a shower.'"

The message came through. "Sounds really good," I answered. "Do I get to wash your boobs?"

"Somebody has to wash them," she said. Joy resounded in her voice. "I can't think of a better man for the job." She reached for a kiss. When it ended, she said, "Wanna guess what I'm gonna wash?"

==||<>||==

She got me to the airport for the flight our parents had arranged for me. We sat in the car, parked among other cars unloading other people who were flying out of Seattle, and hugged each other. "I'll be back with your car over the MLK Birthday weekend," I told her. We were still in each other's arms.

I'll be here," she said, "waiting. I'll wait as long as I have to. I love you, best big brother ever! Because you're worth it!"

"I love you, too, most wonderful little sister," I replied, "and I promise: By fall, I'll find a way to be in Seattle for good." I kissed her, open-mouthed and deeply. It turned into a marathon kiss, and my hands began to wander over her body. We'd been there a little too long, I guess, lost in each other, because a knock came at the window on my side of the car.

It was an airport cop. "Move along," he said. "You can't stay here."

I gave her a quick peck on the lips and jumped out of the car. "I just have to get my suitcase out of the back seat," I said, as I opened the back door and reached.

Suitcase in hand, I closed the door and turned to go into the terminal. "Sorry, lad," he said kindly, as Vicki pulled away. I looked; there was a smile on his face. "Leaving your girlfriend can be tough, but I can't let you stay here. This isn't the place for long good-byes."

"I understand," I said, and I set off to catch my plane.

Shortly, I sat at the gate, already planning the applications I needed to submit: One to the doctoral program at U of W, and several for jobs in the region. Probably, I thought, job applications to private schools, where certification wouldn't matter. Public schools, too, though, if certification issues worked out. Maybe both a real job and part-time graduate school the coming year; we'll have a little money that way. But, most of all, Vicki. Vicki! Fall was only eight months away. I'd waited years for what I had now—what we had now—and those few months seemed like almost no time at all.

I was certain. I would keep my promise, even if I had to dig ditches or flip burgers for a living. One way or another, I would be back to stay.