Family Jules

"Are you ok?" she inquired.

I shifted my gaze to her face. "Yeah, fine."

"You seem tense. Are you still angry with me?"

My brow formed a chevron. "Angry? Who said I was angry."

Julie's lips assumed a perfect droopy pout before she moved them to reply, "I thought you might be; after all, I blew up over you maybe thinking I was lazy, then insisted you admit that you thought I was. You must think I'm crazy?"

I flipped my hand over and cradled hers. She jerked, looking to the sudden motion, but then her mouth formed a gentle curve as her eyes settled on our joined palms.

"Relax," I counseled. "I know you've been through a rough time, but it's going to be ok."

Only her eyes moved as she shifted her focus to my face. "So you don't think I'm crazy?"

"No," I whispered. "And I really don't think you're lazy either. I like sleeping in too, but I get up when I have to. So do you."

Jules shifted her head a few inches to look at me sideways. "But what if I just don't want to?"

I grinned through a chuckle. "Then why should you?"

Julie moved her right hand to the door latch. "Ready?"

"Sure," I agreed with a nod. I released her hand and exited the vehicle. We had taken no more than a dozen steps before her palm again found mine. I looked down at our hands, then back to my sister.

She must have guessed from my expression what was on my mind. "Guys always hit on me unless it's obvious I'm with someone else. You don't mind, do you?"

I blinked twice as my head vibrated from side to side.

Jules smiled. "Thanks. I knew you wouldn't."

My shopping anxieties were a distant memory as we strolled into the supermarket hand-in-hand. I imagined everyone looking at me, the scrawny guy with the hot babe. They didn't know she was my sister, and for the moment I could pretend she wasn't.

Rather than abating, my thrill increased as we shopped together, discussing little things like what spaghetti sauce we wanted, just like a real couple. Only when we returned home and she retired again to the couch was my illusion shattered.

I went to my room alone, at least in the physical sense; but Jules would not leave my mind. Tossing my clothes into a pile, I climbed into my bed. I stared at the ceiling for a while before deciding there was only one thing that would drive my sister from my mind and at the same time relax me enough to find slumber.

Rolling across my queen-size, I opened the top drawer from my nightstand and retrieved my stack of smut rags. I'd been hard half the night, so achieving an erection was no problem. Proceeding beyond that, however, proved difficult. Even when I did find a fake redhead on the pages I held above me, my mind wandered to the real redhead in my living room.

Four magazines, fifteen minutes, and a lot of useless stroking later I gave up; there was only one woman in the world I wanted. I tossed the other girls back into my drawer, closed my eyes, and pictured Jules. Almost at once my fingers felt the precum slicken my cockhead. Any guy who never got excited thinking about his sister, sure didn't have a sister like mine.

Five minutes later, I was asleep.

* * * * *

The corn chowder wasn't bad. Wasn't great either, but was definitely edible. So were the chicken empanadas and the wonton soup. By the end of the week, we'd fallen into something of a daily routine. Sis didn't bother to get up and make me breakfast, but she had supper faithfully on the table at six.

After dinner we took turns deciding what we'd do for the remainder of the evening. On Friday we dined out and caught a movie. For the weekend, we agreed on ladies first; Jules got Saturday and I got Sunday. She picked dinner atop the Space Needle. I opted for the ferry ride to Bainbridge Island.

The next few weekends we visited the aquarium and rode the dinner train, saw a few plays and took a drive in the mountains. I would never have done any of these things on my own, and I would not have enjoyed them nearly so much with anyone else.

With my sister's frequent role in my masturbation fantasies, I had little room to disavow the lust I felt for her. Yet, over those weeks of mid autumn I began to experience something else, an odd sensation that settled in my chest whenever she was around. Although I didn't understand it at the time, looking back, I'm sure I fell in love with my sister in a way that went far beyond physical attraction. For the moment though, I was content to enjoy the bliss and not analyze it, somehow forgetting that nothing lasts forever.

This illusion was shattered one evening after dinner by an entirely benevolent proposal.

"I was thinking I could get a Christmas job at one of the department stores, you know, maybe help you with the bills a bit."

My eyes flew wide. I inhaled a half-breath. "I, uh, think they do all their hiring before Halloween."

Jules shook her head. "No. I checked on the web. There's plenty of places looking for part-time help. I could probably even get a full-time job if you wanted."

"No," I insisted. "You don't need to do that. We're fine. With all the eating at home, you're saving me money, really." That last bit, I knew, was a lie. In the months before my sister had arrived, I had been running almost a grand per month in the black. Since she had shown up, we'd more or less been breaking even.

"I want to," Julie said. "You've been so generous and I feel like such a leech."

"You aren't! A leech, I mean. It's great having you here. You never have to work if you don't want to."

"But I do want to. Besides, I could use a little spending money. You've been paying for everything."

"I don't mind," I assured her. "And if you need some cash, well, all you have to do is ask."

Jules paused. Her eyes narrowed. "You don't think I can do it, do you?"

"What?"

"Find a job. And keep it."

I snapped my head side to side. "No. That's not it at all."

"Then what is it?"

I expect my face must have been blank as I considered her inquiry. "I don't know," I admitted a second later. "I guess things are just going so well, I don't want to rock the boat."

Jules tilted her head and grinned. "But the boat will rock someday, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"All good things come to an end. Eventually you'll find a girlfriend, or I'll find a boyfriend. This has been wonderful, but it is temporary, right?"

I exhaled a long breath. My shoulders sagged. "I suppose so. But there's no reason it has to end soon, unless you want it to. There's no one on my horizon. You?"

Julie shrugged. "No. I was just trying to think of you."

My spirits bounced as I sensed an opening. "You don't have to worry about me. I don't mean to brag, but anything you brought home would be a round-off error compared to what I make, so you don't need to work. Do you really want to, for your own sake, I mean?"

Julie's gaze wandered for several anxious seconds. "I guess not. I just wanted to help, but if you're sure we're ok..."

"We're more than ok," I assured. "You don't have to worry about a thing. Really."

My sister's head bobbed in a slight nod. "Alright. But promise you'll tell me if something changes?"

"I will."

"Ok, then," Jules began. "If it's still my night, I want to find a putt-putt golf course. They do have those around here, right?"

"I don't know," I admitted with a shrug. "But I'm sure they must. Let's check the net and find out."

Three hours and thirty-six holes of miniature golf later, I went to bed feeling as though I had dodged a bullet. For once, I did not reach for the drawer of my nightstand. Instead, I stared at the ceiling and tried to figure out why the thought of Julie having a job so terrified me. I found the answer soon enough, then spent another hour trying to find another answer I liked better, to no avail.

* * * * *

To my relief, Jules appeared to accept my reasoning regarding our finances. That was the last I heard about getting a job. Things proceeded as they had before. By the time Thanksgiving arrived, my sister had undertaken all of the housework. To my astonishment, she showed no signs of slacking off either. I began to once again pretend that things could go on in this way forever. In the back of my mind, I knew it couldn't, but it was a pleasant fantasy.

With an extra two days of the upcoming weekend, we decided to split these as any other weekend; I would get Turkey Day and she would get Friday.

Julie fixed a fine dinner and I spent my day in front of the tube watching football. A year ago, this would have been an ideal day, but to my surprise I was less than enthralled watching twenty-two armored strangers chase a fake pig bladder around a fake grass field for three hours. I found much more fascination in running my fingers through my sister's hair as she rested her head on my thigh, watching the game with me.

I feared a day of shopping would surely follow a day of football, but instead Jules selected the Woodland Park Zoo. Like most things my sister planned, the afternoon was a joy. The clouds that had shrouded the city all week parted and we strolled amongst the animals hand-in-hand, as had become our habit.

The sun even became so strong that I worried my pale sister would burn. I insisted she let me buy some sunscreen, not even thinking what a pleasure it would be when she asked me to rub it on.

We must have traversed the zoo at least twice before heading for the car. Afterward we grabbed a bite at Anthony's Fish Bar and strolled along the pier while the sun set before finally heading for home.

"Oh," Jules moaned, kicking off her shoes the instant we were in the door. "All that walking. I can't believe I wore heels. My feet are killing me."

"Yeah, that was a bit of a stroll."

"A stroll?"

"Hey," I started with a grin. "You were the one that wanted to go hiking in the mountains come summer."

"I still do; I just won't wear heels."

"We'll get you some nice boots if you really want to hike."

"You're on. I'll wear them back to the zoo next time too."

"Next time?"

"Sure. As soon as that old carousel is finished, we have to ride it."

I smiled, picturing the horses of the antique carousel moving up and down, my sister on a stark white stallion, her face aglow amid all the lights, motion, and sound. My eyes would be on her, the brightest light of all.

"Damon," Jules prompted, terminating my vision. "Is it still my night?"

I shrugged. "Sure."

"Then can I ask you to do something special for me?"

My spine stiffened at once. "Sure. What?"

"Rub my feet?"

"What?"

"Rub lotion into my feet, the way you rubbed it into my shoulders earlier."

I shrugged. "Ok."

"Great. The hand lotion's in my blue bag."

I walked to the pile in the corner of the living room that more or less served as my sister's closet. "I should see about getting a second bedroom when the lease is up in February, if you still want to stay with me."

Jules opened the bag as I set it on the sofa. "Let's not worry about it until then," she suggested while rummaging through the contents. A few seconds later, she produced a plastic bottle and handed it to me. She then cupped her hands behind her head and stretched, stiffening her body as she did so.

I felt a stiffening of my own as I watched her breasts strain to break free of their containment. I heard a thud at my feet and looked down to see I had dropped the lotion. As quickly as I dared, I knelt and retrieved the plastic bottle.

I looked up to find Julie's eye upon my own. I froze, mesmerized by her icy blues. A few seconds later I felt a softness upon my forearm. Looking down, I found my sister's right foot adjacent to my wrist, her toes caressing my flesh.

With a swallow, I looked back to her face. "What do I do?"

"Just put some lotion on your hands and start rubbing. It's one of those things you can't do wrong, so long as you just do it."

"Ok." My hands were shaking as I squirted a glob of cream into my right palm. Setting the bottle to the carpet, I cradled her foot with my left hand while I began rubbing it with my right.

"Yes," Jules whispered. "Oh, Damon, you don't know how wonderful that is. Between the toes, run your fingers between my toes. And underneath too. Yes, just like that. You are too good to me, brother. Too good."

I continued to follow her instructions, rubbing several handfuls of the lotion into her moistening flesh. The sight of my sister's lower legs, the moans she kept emitting, the feel of my flesh upon hers; it was all too much. Soon I was forced to shift my kneeling stance to account for an unwanted, though not unexpected, hardness. My own respiration had increased in a noticeable way by the time she beckoned, "Ok, now the other one."

I shifted my attention to her previously ignored foot. Cradling it with my right hand, I ran the fingers of my left over the soft upper surface. With a gulp, I dared slide my right hand along her sole, past her ankle and onto her calf. Receiving no reprimand, I began to massage her muscle while exerting a gentle pressure. Her leg rose an inch and I moved my free hand to cup her foot.

My courage buoyed by both my own lust and her apparent acquiescence, I leaned forward and began to rub the supple flesh atop her foot with my nose. Her toes flexed, then rolled downward, but otherwise she made no move.

I stroked her foot several more times before I stopped and blew a gentle breeze. Her toes uncurled, then curled again, almost beckoning. I moved my mouth to her foot. Her leg shuddered as my lips met her skin. My overture unrebuffed, I opened my lips and sucked just a pinch of her pliant flesh into my mouth, nasty tasting lotion and all.

Jules issued a sharp, "Oh!" before her voice trailed off into a low moan. I moved an inch, and kissed her foot again. "Yes," she whispered. "That's nice too."

Emboldened, I began to love my sister's feet in earnest, suckling on the softness of the tops.

"Lotion," Jules whispered. "Don't forget the lotion."

Lotion? What made her think I wanted to kiss more lotion? Still, it was her night. I grabbed the bottle with one hand and squirted a stream along the side of her leg down and into the palm of the hand that still cradled her foot. Ointment thus applied, my hands returned to their caressing. Soon they progressed to massaging, then to true fondling.

My lips returned to make their way up her foot, onto her ankle and beyond, stopping only where her leg disappeared beneath her slacks. There I paused, wanting so much to rip the fabric from her body and continue my worship of it, wondering if she wanted anything near the same.

Then I smelled it. No, not it- her! I smelled her. Just a hint. I'd only smelled two pussies before, but it is a scent like no other. My sister was definitely number three.

My lips peeled back and I began to nibble her calf as I savored her fragrance. Her moans increased, and with it my frustration. I knew part of her loved what I was doing, but what of the other part? Would that part hate me when whatever animalistic passion we shared had subsided? I looked to her face. Her head rested on the back of the sofa, eyes closed and pointed skyward. There was no hint I could discern regarding the depths of her pleasure.

With reluctance, I moved back to my kneeling position, my mouth as far from my sister as I could get it. I returned my attention to my hands, moving them over my sister's foot and leg in an ever-slowing fashion.

Julie's head popped up as the movement of my hands over her skin came to a stop. She smiled as our eyes locked upon one another. "That was wonderful, brother."

"Really?"

"Better than sex." She paused to wink. "Or at least close. Anything I can do for you in return?"

"No," I said with a shake of my head. "It's your night, remember?"

"How about on your night?"

"I'll think about it."

"You sure you don't want a shoulder rub?"

There was only one thing I wanted her to rub just then, and I was certain it would produce its own lotion in short order. I sighed, resolving to rub it myself. "No. I think I'll head for bed."

* * * * *

"Wake up, sleepy head!"

My left eye snapped wide and pivoted around the still dim interior of my room, finally finding my sister's face. "What time is it?" I wondered aloud.

"Nine."

"Nine?"

"Yeah," Julie said with a chuckle. "It comes after eight."

"Clever. So what's the deal, are you the only one allowed to sleep in?"

"You've slept in enough. It's my day again, remember?"

"Yeah."

"So get up. We've another boat to catch."

"A boat?"

"Yeah, I liked that ferry so much I booked us another one, except this time we're going to some recreated Indian village."

"Tillicum?"

"Hey, you've heard of it? Good. Now c'mon."

"When do we need to be there?"

"Eleven-thirty."

"What? Two and a half hours? Where is it?"

"Pier Fifty-five. Wherever that is."

I settled back into my bed. "It's southwest a bit. Can't imagine it could take more than half an hour, forty-five minutes at the most."

"So you think we've some time to kill?"

"Yeah. An hour at least."

"Good. We've got half a bottle of lotion to kill too. Get up."

"Huh?"

"You heard me. Any day it's my day, you can count on an hour footrub. Maybe two. Now get your lazy ass out of bed."

All thoughts of sleep evaporated the instant I comprehended I would again have the opportunity to worship a portion of my sister's loveliness. My eyes flew wide. I all but bounced off the mattress.

Two hours later, our car was on the road south to pier fifty-five, but my mind was back in the apartment, reliving how soft her feet felt beneath my fingers. My timid side had won this morning and I hadn't ventured onto her legs, nor had I again brought my lips to her flesh. Every other side within me wanted to lynch my timid side.

So far as the outing itself was concerned, the cultural experience might have been rewarding on another occasion, but I had a difficult time tearing my eyes from my sibling. I saw her as something else that day, not an unapproachable goddess but a flesh-and-blood woman, one who enjoyed my touch, even if it was just her feet.

By the time of our return crossing the overcast of the afternoon had turned into a drizzle. The wind off the water magnified the chill. Julie, I guess, was still used to dressing for Houston, where it almost always got warmer as the day progressed. She was shivering before the ferry even got underway.

"We should go inside," I suggested. "At least it'll be out of the wind."

Jules turned her face to me. With a hand on each elbow and shoulders drawn tight, the look defined pitiful. Her usual pallor had increased to an almost dead white. Those big pouty lips were favoring purple instead of red. Her flowing rusty locks had a frizzy, unkempt look.

"No," she said with a brisk shake of her head. "I don't want to be in there with everyone else. I'd rather stay outside, if that's ok?"

I shrugged. "Sure." I caught myself wondering for a second if I was willing to surrender my jacket before I chastised myself for even that delay. In a smooth motion, I whipped the light coat from my torso and around my sister.

For a second, Julie's eyes found the garment draped over her shoulder. Then she shifted her gaze to me. I expected some token protest, but instead her lips curled in a pleasant grin before they parted. "Thank you, brother."

I smiled in reply. "My pleasure." In spite of the instant chill and the hairs on my arms standing at attention, I did my best to remain a stoic martyr. Almost without thinking, I wrapped my bare arm around my sister's far shoulder and pulled her close.

Her head fell, finding my shoulder. "That's nice. Hold me, just like that."

I did. Somehow, with her next to me, the chill didn't matter anymore.

"Damon?" she prompted, her eyes still on the grey waves.