Family Jules

"Ok, got it."

I took a second for the photographer's words to register. I turned to look toward the partygoers. Every one of them sported the same grin. Still trying to sort out what had just happened, and why, I allowed my sister to lead me back to the nearby table where she attended to the token paperwork that accompanied the picture.

I was still thinking about the kiss as I watched her hand move across the paper. Then she stopped. A second passed before I looked down to see she'd written "Julie He..."

My eyes went from the page to her face. Her expression was blank, her focus still on the paper. The next second her hand was in motion again, finishing her name and then mine. A smile graced her features as she turned to me. "One more dance?"

"Sure, Miss Henderson," I quipped. "I'd be delighted."

She dropped the pen. Her hand slid from the table, unerringly finding mine. With a firm grip she headed back to the dance floor with me in tow.

"Do you think you'll like our picture?" Jules inquired as we began to move to the music.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "Wasn't quite what I was expecting."

"I surprised you then?"

"Yes. Don't know where I can hang that picture."

"Oh, I suspect we'll find someplace."

I cocked my head. "Where?"

Julie shrugged. "I don't know. Your office maybe?"

I smiled. "Yeah. Maybe."

We danced in silence for several more minutes. With each passing moment, I held her a little closer. Soon we weren't really dancing so much as meandering while we hugged.

My eyes popped open. I wondered for a moment when I had closed then, but then the warmth of Julie breath upon my ear chased the trivial thought from my mind.

"My feet hurt," she whispered.

"Ok," I said. "We can go back to the table."

"Can we go home instead. I think I've partied enough for one night."

I looked to my watch. It wasn't even nine o'clock, but I didn't feel I ought to ask her to stay; she'd already put on a much better show than I had any right to expect.

I smiled, imagining my coworkers dropping by on Monday wanting to know where I'd been keeping her. "Ok," I said. "If that's what you want."

We said our goodbyes and headed for the car.

Jules hadn't even settled in her seat before she was squirming. "Do hurry. I can't wait to get out of this dress."

I drove in silence, part of me concentrated on making the short trip home as brief as possible. Another part speculated about the events of the party; the dancing, the mock engagement, the kiss. Especially the kiss.

"Thanks," I managed as we entered the elevator. "It was a nice evening."

Jules glanced up at the floor indicator as it flashed from one number to the next. "It was nice. What'd you like the best?"

I shrugged. "I don't know."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Hard to say."

In a flash, she pounced. Pushing me into the corner, she brought her mouth again to mine. She was far more aggressive this time, suckling my lower lips beyond her own, nibbling, licking, caressing.

I had just begun to respond when the ding announced the elevator's arrival at our floor. Julie withdrew to the middle of the lift and straightened her dress. "Did that help you make up your mind?"

"I, uh, I'm not sure."

Julie's eyebrows bounced upward. "Really?" She exited the elevator and headed up the corridor. "Well, I really do want to get out of this dress. Maybe that'll help you make up your mind."

"We're home," I interjected. "You can quit pretending to be my girlfriend."

Jules stopped and turned to me. "What if I don't want to pretend?"

My brow dropped. "How much wine did you have?"

"I'm not drunk," Jules snapped. "I'm horny. C'mon."

I followed her in a daze, unsure what she meant, my mind but daring to believe what I had just heard.

Once inside, Julie moved to the nearest corner and leaned, rubbing her back upon the point where the two walls met. Issuing a low moan, she wiggled her shoulders. The straps of her dress fell and my eyes fell with them, my focus settling upon the exposed upper portion of her bosom.

"You like?" she inquired in a husky whisper.

I could but nod in reply.

"Close the door."

Without looking away, my hand moved behind me, shutting and latching the entryway.

"Come here," she demanded.

I did. I was helpless. I was hers. We kissed again. For real. As lovers. My hands moved over the soft fabric, and the softer body beneath. Her hands found the back of my head. I felt her fingers intertwine with my locks. For a minute she pulled my face unto hers, her tongue and lips vying to see which could explore the most of my mouth.

Then, without warning, she pulled my hair, terminating our kiss. "Lower," she whispered. "I want you to kiss me everywhere."

I gasped my excitement as she pulled my face to her neck.

"Yes," Jules hissed. "That's right, keep going. Lower." Exhibiting a downward pressure, she wiggled her shoulders. She arched her back, thrusting her chest outward. A nipple popped into view.

My hands flew to her hips, steadying her body as I brought my mouth to her bosom, kissing along the bare upper portion.

"Yes!" she screamed "Yes, brother! Love them for me."

She pulled again on my hair. I closed my eyes as my face was forced to the softness of her breast. My open mouth soon found the apex, engulfing as much of her womanly flesh as I could. Thus I began to nurse upon my sister's bosom, still scarcely daring to believe it was other than a dream.

Using my locks as reins, Julie steered my willing mouth back and forth between her breasts; moaning, writhing, even whimpering as she did so.

"Suck the bottom too," she whimpered. She released my hair with one of her hands and moved it to her chest, pulling her dress down. The entirety of her majestic bosom sprang free. I could but behold their magnificence in awe; so round, so firm, so smooth, so feminine; so perfect.

I dropped to my knees, my mouth sliding over the curve of her flesh until I found the soft and sensitive underside.

"Yes!" my sister gasped. "Right there. Oh, God, I love to be sucked there." As if to confirm her claim, her hips rotated, pushing outward, rubbing against my chest.

Within seconds, I tensed, then inhaled a sharp breath, confirming that it was her aroma my nose sampled. I heard a soft snarl resonate through my nasal cavity. Switching breasts, I brought my teeth to her flesh for a tender nibble before I once again began to suckle.

Less than a minute later, I felt what I smelled; Julie's moistness seeping through her dress and my shirt. I stopped and leaned away, confirming the wet stain on both garments. My eyes leapt upward, hoping she might ask that I sample her taste as well as her scent.

Jules had rather the opposite in mind. "Let me suck your cock," she whispered.

My mouth dropped. I could feel the blood warm my member as it expanded in response to her request, demanding that I accept. Standing, I leaned forward and brought my lips to hers.

We kissed but for a handful of seconds before Jules slid her lips from mine. She said nothing as she fell away, sinking slowly to her knees. My knees twitched as she reached for my zipper. Then she freed my cock. I gasped, realizing I had not breathed since before we had kissed.

Our eyes met as Julie grasped my shaft about the base and directed its rampant form horizontal. She smiled, wrinkling her nose in a quick spasm before she eased her parted lips over my engorged head. She did not start slow or even pretend to tease. In a smooth motion, her lips slid along the length of my shaft until I felt the softness of her rear palate envelop my crown.

There she stopped. Keeping my cock buried in her mouth, she moved her head in a subtle rolling manner, caressing my head with the pliable tissue at the entry to her throat. She issued not the slightest hint of a gag; her face appeared awash with bliss. As if this was not enough, her tongue roamed the sensitive underside of my member in a tantalizing caress.

My hips began to squirm; only an inch, maybe less. She responded by starting to suck me for real, her mouth moving in time with my hips, her cheeks flexing with the suction that accompanied each stroke.

I'm not a genius, but one did not have to be Einstein to comprehend my cock was not the first to pass my sister's lips. My mind wandered to the string of jerks she had lived with over the years. My motion stopped as I imagined her blowing them. Total assholes, the lot; probably expected such service as a matter of cohabitation. My chest heaved with a massive breath as I realized, as much as I wanted my sister, I wished more not to associate myself in any way with her previous lovers.

Leaning forward, I brought one palm to each of my sister's cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked up at once, but she did not stop sucking. I applied a gentle pressure until her head was stationary, then moved my hands to slide her mouth from my shaft.

"Did I do something wrong?" Julie asked the instant my crown sprang from her lips.

I snapped my head to and fro. "No. I just, well, this doesn't seem right."

"What? Why? Don't you want to?"

Such a question, that. Of course I wanted to. She was the hottest, sexiest woman I could imagine, but I would not have her unless it was what she wanted. Something she really wanted, not just something she felt obliged to do.

"Not just now," I said.

Julie's lips turned inward. Her nose wrinkled, and stayed that way. "You bastard!" She jumped to her feet, looking down that inch to me. "What the fuck do you mean teasing me like that?"

"What?"

Jules stuck out her tongue and then drew the appendage back, scraping the surface along her upper teeth. The next second she spat; just a spray, but I flinched anyway. When I opened my eyes, her eyes were inches from mine. Her normal blue was a grey, surrounded by a frame of pink.

"Liar," she hissed.

"W-w-hat?" I managed.

"You were leaking like a fucking sieve. Don't even pretend you don't want me. And now you're gonna pull that 'Oh, you're my sister, we can't.' shit, aren't you?"

"That's not it! I just don't want you thinking, you know, you owe me anything."

"Owe you? What the fuck do you mean 'owe you'?"

"You know. You staying here."

She paused to sigh and shake her head, withdrawing from my face in the process. Her voice was soft, but the words were clear, crisp, haunting. "Go away."

"What?" I asked again, knowing full well what she had said.

"Go away," she repeated. "Leave me."

"What?" I repeated. "Where?"

"Your room."

I tensed. "My room?" I looked down the hall, then back to Jules. "I didn't mean it the way you think."

"Oh! I owe you? How did you mean it?"

"I didn't want, you know...."

"Yeah!" Jules barked. "Me! That's what you don't want. Your pulling me off your cock made that pretty fucking clear. I'm your sister, nothing more. And I don't owe you a thing. I get it!" She snapped her head sideways, but not before I saw a tear begin to make its way down her cheek.

"No..." I started.

Her body followed her head, turning her back completely toward me. "Just go."

* * * * *

Julie still fixed dinner after that, but you didn't need a degree in psychology to know something had changed. She treated me with that distant civil manner accorded ex-lovers.

Without a word, we quit doing his and her days. Every day was the same, awful. I didn't feel the need to masturbate; I tried, but having had a taste of the real thing, no fantasy would suffice. After a week that could have been a year, I began to hope my sister would find a boyfriend or a job, whatever it took to get her off my couch and out of my apartment, anywhere I didn't have to see her everyday. At least that's what I told myself I wanted.

Things were so strained we didn't even discuss getting a Christmas tree or exchanging gifts. Thus I was surprised when Tom called to me one evening when I entered my apartment building.

"Mr. Hewitt? I've a package for you."

"Yeah?" I queried, walking to the guard's station.

"It came for you today. Required a signature and your girlfriend didn't pick up the phone, so I signed for it. Hope you didn't mind?"

"My girlfriend?" My brow dropped. "Oh, you mean my sister."

The old man chuckled as he brought the box from below his desk. "Mr. Hewitt, you can call her what you want, but please don't expect me to believe that's your sister. I wasn't born yesterday, you know."

"Yeah, I realize she and I don't look much alike," I began. "But..."

"It ain't so much that she don't look like you," Tom interjected. "No. It's the way you look at her. No brother ever gave his sister the eye like you give her. And I seen you two holding hands all the time. Plus, no sister I know ever kissed her brother like she does."

"What?" I gasped.

The old man picked up a pencil and rotated ninety degrees, tapping one of a dozen monitors to his right.

My eyes moved the inch from the writing instrument to the screen. "Oh," I sighed with a shallow nod. "The elevator."

Tom spun back to me. "I didn't mean to embarrass you none. Lots of folks kiss in the elevator, thinkin' it's really private. But some other fellows, not gentlemen like yourself, they tries a bit more than the ladies want. That's why I have to pay attention, I hope you understand."

"Yeah," I grunted. "I guess so."

"Not that I'd ever tell anyone else. Keeping my mouth shut is part of the job. Anyway, not like it's against the rules or anything for you to have your girl move in with ya."

I picked up the box. "Doesn't matter," I muttered. "I think we're, uh, breaking up."

"Oh," Tom said in a low moan. "Sorry to hear that, Mr. Hewitt. I thought she was a keeper the way she jumped you that night."

"Yeah," I sighed. "I guess I sorta fooled myself into thinkin' so too. Thanks for signing for the package."

"My pleasure, Mr. Hewitt. You have a good evening."

"You too, Tom."

I made my way to the elevator, absently opening the box en route. I pushed the foam peanuts on the interior to one side, seeking the contents. My eyes flew wide. I snapped my head both directions, confirming I was alone before I looked again. Unsure where more of Tom's security cameras might be, I closed the box and didn't open it again.

"Jules?" I called. No answer. For a moment, my chest froze, then I saw her things still scattered about the living room. I made my way to the kitchen where I found a note on the table:

Damon,

Went out to do a little shopping. I'll likely be late back. Will grab a bite while I'm out. Hope you don't mind me not fixing dinner one night.

Julie

I flipped the note over and scribbled on the reverse:

Jules,

Sorry I opened your package. It came in my name. I guess since you used my credit card. That's ok, of course. I think I'll go out for a bite myself.

Love, Damon

I made the trip back to the elevator and started for the parking garage before I realized Jules had almost certainly taken the car. My mind was on my sister, and the box, as I made my way toward the street.

"Going for a stroll, Mr. Hewitt?"

I turned to Tom. "No. Just going out for dinner. Haven't decided where."

"What you in the mood for?"

"Quiet."

"Might be hard to find that on a Friday," Tom noted. "What about that new Bistro place, the one that's like a library."

"Yeah. Maybe I'll try that."

"Something troubling you, sir? The girl?"

I shrugged. One could have been born yesterday and figured that one out. "Tom, why do women use the silent treatment?"

The old man guffawed and slapped his thigh. "Because it works!"

I dropped my brow and tilted my head. "What?"

"Because it works. Shows us what it would be like without them, while all the time reminding us how much we miss them 'cause they're still there. Is that what yer gettin', the silent treatment?"

"Yeah."

"Glory be, Mr. Hewitt! Can't you see that's a good sign?"

"What?"

"If she wasn't interested, she'd have packed already. Think about it."

I tried, and failed. "Go on?"

"Have you been trying to talk to her?"

"No. She said to leave her alone."

The old man leaned over, cupping his face with his palm. "And you did?"

"Leave her alone. Yeah, that's what..."

Tom's face leapt from his hand. "No! Whatever you done to make her cross, you gots to apologize for it everyday. No matter what she says. By not paying her attention, you're telling her you can do without her. Don't you see?"

I caught my head moving in a slow nod as I considered his words. "You're right," I concluded. "I can't do without her. Who have I been kidding?" My gaze on the floor, but my thoughts elsewhere, I wandered away from the desk with a mumbled, "Thanks."

"Mr. Hewitt?"

I turned. "Yes?"

"Have a great evening, sir."

"I will."

I headed for the street, wondering if I had lied. Eyes to the concrete before me, I wandered the mostly empty sidewalks. It was classic December in the Pacific northwest; dark and damp, like my mood. I passed any number of trendy restaurants and taverns, but none struck me as tranquil enough. After half an hour, I realized the foolishness of my quest. The quietest place to eat was the one I had left.

My mind was on the cupboard as I returned to the apartment. I hadn't got quite to the kitchen before I heard a faint sound, or at least I thought I had. Cocking my head, I listened.

My head began to bob as I discerned there were noises coming down the hall, from my bedroom. My eyes led my head as I turned, seeking the table. The package was gone.

I slipped off my shoes. Not even daring to breathe, I made my way down the hall to my almost closed door. I leaned until the portal opened a crack, then peered through.

Jules arched her back. Her hips surged skyward as she rubbed her bright red toy through the rusty pelt of her crease. Amid grunts her nose wrinkled, then relaxed, then wrinkled again.

"Yes, yes," Julie gasped between grunts. Then she said it. Between some animalistic utterings, a name. My name.

I backed away, hoping she had not heard my gasp. My eyes to the carpet, I pondered the situation. Even above the primal sounds my sister continued to make, I could hear my own heart beating. The vision of my sibling masturbating brought home to me in no uncertain terms that she was a woman, a feminine creature with needs and desires.

And I, somehow, was part of those desires. She really did want me, and not as a brother. Certainly not because she thought she owed me anything. That toy between her thighs was but a surrogate. With a brisk inhale I looked between my own thighs and the hardness there growing with every passing second.

Exhaling the same breath, I looked to my room. Not giving my resolve a moment to waver, I turned and brought my knuckles to the door.

There was a rustling sound beyond. Then a timid, "Yes?"

I pushed the door wide to find my sister huddled beneath the sheets. She wore one of those thin grins, you know the ones, somewhere between shy and sly.

"I'm sorry," I said.

Jules shrugged. "How were you supposed to know. It had your name on it."

"Not about the box."

"No? Then what?"

"Whatever I did to make you mad."

Her grin widened to a full-toothed smile. "And what was that?"

I smiled back. "I just figured out why women use the silent treatment."

"Really?" Jules eyebrows bounced upward. "Do tell."

"Because it works."

Jules cocked her head to one side. "Oh, it does?"

"Sure. Otherwise why would I be standing here, in my apartment, apologizing to my sister, who's been in my bed diddling herself with a toy she bought with my money? And I'm still not sure why I'm apologizing. Except I love her like crazy. And I'll do anything to have things the way they were."

Julie's eyebrows rose over a pair of wide eyes. "What if I want more than the way things were?"