Lifeline

"I'm sorry," she whimpered.

He turned slowly, astonishment in his eyes. She must have interpreted it as some other emotion because her words began to flow in a torrent, almost too fast to understand. "It's just that I was trying to show you that it's not so bad here that you have to leave and stay gone forever. I thought that maybe if you could see what's waiting for you here you wouldn't leave, or at least you'd come back after you finished school. I mean, I missed you so much and I didn't think I could stand going another two years without seeing you. And then you and Myra had some kind of falling out so now she barely talks to me and I just know when you leave for school you won't come back and now it's like I'm losing both a brother and a sister. I don't know what I did wrong but I'm sorry anyway so please please please don't walk away!"

He went to her then, desire put on hold in favor of concern. He sat on the couch and hugged her while she cried, her face buried in his chest. She kept whispering apologies while he stroked her hair. He knew he couldn't let the situation stand as it was. He would not allow her to believe that she was at fault for anything, so after she calmed down enough for coherent speech he told her everything. He told her he had begun to feel inappropriate desires for her since he came home, that it was sudden and unexpected, that those feelings had been growing so strong he felt that he had to withdraw from her to keep her safe. He expressed how galling it was to know that the best way to protect his favorite person in the world was to stay away from her regardless of the effect it would have on him. He even told her about Myra and his lingering guilt that he'd ruined her first sexual experience, how he'd called out her name, not Myra's as he climaxed.

He looked at the floor while he told her everything she'd asked to know and more. He didn't want to look into her eyes for he knew what he'd find there. Disgust, maybe even fear. He would bear it to keep her from feeling the same guilt he felt but he would hold off looking for as long as she let him. When he'd finished he sat next to her, drained; baring his soul to her had cost him something important. He believed it had cost him his sister's love. He spoke his fear aloud, he had no secrets left. "...so you see? You have nothing to be sorry for. I'm sorry. I'm the perverted creep. I understand if you hate me. I'll pack my things and..."

"No," Cece interrupted quietly but firmly. "You are not allowed to leave, do you understand?" Kyle shook his head, unsure of what he was hearing, not allowing himself to hope. She took his head in both her hands. "Look at me Kyle." He let her lift his head to meet her eyes. "I could never hate you bro." She still read uncertainty in his eyes. He was convinced he was wretched and irredeemable, the scum of the earth. He kept trying to put his head down as if unable to stand the intensity of her gaze. At a loss, she did the only thing she could think of to get through to him. "Stubborn ass," she mumbled as she held his head in place. Then she kissed him on the lips, hard. There was nothing even remotely sisterly about it.

For Kyle time stood still. He reveled in the kiss, wanted it to last forever. He knew how wrong it was but for once he did not care. It felt more right than anything he'd ever experienced. He embraced his sister without conscious thought, felt her melt into his strong arms. He marveled at the amazing blend of strength and softness available to his touch. He was greedy for more, his very blood sung with desire for more, yet he forced himself to stop, to break the exquisite contact, to take a breath before they passed the point of no return. He nearly had everything. For one night he would be able to have everything if only he didn't screw up, didn't scare her, didn't violate her trust.

Their lips parted and the real world came rushing back. Kyle held her at arm's length, waiting for her patiently. He wanted her desperately but he would not push her into anything. He would abide by any decision she made, would follow her lead going forward. "I always wondered what that would feel like," she said with a small smile, almost to herself. She continued, breathless, a small blush appearing on her cheeks. "Say bro, would you mind if we did that again?"

There could be no holding back after that; she had broken his resolve to keep his mounting desire from his innocent sister. They kissed with purpose, throwing caution to the wind. It had become clear to them both that there was only one way the night would end. They were committed and damn the consequences. They began to move together naturally. There was none of the awkwardness typical of new lovers; they touched each other as if knowing instinctively how to give each other pleasure. Their hands roamed over each other's bodies without hurry; as they kissed they savored the tactile bliss of skin contact. They were in another world, one only they inhabited. Nothing mattered beyond what the two of them could create together.

***

Ellen woke from a vague nightmare with her heart racing. It took a minute to catch her breath but she managed. She was a bit unsettled because she almost never dreamed and when she did her dreams didn't fade like most peoples. She found it strange that she could remember nothing about the dream that had awakened her but she shrugged it off. Dan was sleeping peacefully next to her. She wanted to join him and go back to sleep but found that she could not. She tossed and turned for a minute before giving it up for a lost cause. She turned on the TV, occasionally shaking off the strange tingles in her left arm.

***

Cecelia took the lead, perhaps in an attempt to show her brother that his desire was not one-sided, to prove it to him in the most direct way possible. She told him to stand so that she could undress him. He complied without hesitation. She began by unbuttoning his shirt. She did it slowly, so slowly. She planted butterfly kisses over the skin exposed by one button, then the next. She was determined to explore with lips and tongue the entire expanse of his rock hard chest and abs, determined to drive him to mindless lust.

She spoke to him between kisses in a smoky, sinful whisper that nevertheless sounded as clear as a bell to Kyle's ears. "I heard you, you know," she mouthed the words. "I was listening when you fucked Myra." She spent a little extra time teasing and biting his nipples before continuing down his torso. "It was sweet how you took your time...," her breathing got heavier when she reached his abs, knowing how close she was to his belt. Her hand ran lightly over the length of his powerful shaft straining against the confines of his blue jeans and she shivered a little before continuing. "It was hot when you made her moan. I couldn't help putting my hands down my pants." She lingered at his belt line, her hand beginning to rub his manhood through his jeans. She delayed exposure while kissing below his belly button, teasing him mercilessly. He let her do what she wanted though the effort of holding back was extremely taxing. Her words lit as much as a fire as her touch, her kisses. Cece had a hand in her pants stroking her clit, nearly lost in the memory. Her other hand worked his belt. He offered no assistance; he knew she would not appreciate it.

She continued to speak as she finally freed his member and took it into her hands. "I came instantly when I heard you call out my name." Her face was a mask of concentration while her hand moved faster and faster on his cock. She seemed mesmerized by his dribbling pre-cum. "I wished you would do that for me, take me tenderly and then make me scream." She gripped him hard while she kissed just below the head of his cock. "I wished I was in the room with my sister. I wish we could have lost our virginities together with you." Kyle was shaking with every bombshell she dropped. Then she looked up into his eyes and pleaded, "Will you make me a woman, Kyle?" Nothing she could ever say would have pleased him more. A low moan escaped his lips as he came for the first time that night. She milked it with both hands, aiming the spray towards her chest. The feel of his hot spray trickling down between her breasts excited her more than she could have imagined. She wanted more, much more.

***

Ellen heard a noise, a moan that sounded like the house settling or maybe wind. She thought about trying to wake Dan but decided against it when she didn't hear anything else. She glanced out the window. There was no breeze outside; the tree in the yard stood as still as a sentinel. Then her head began to pound and she forgot about strange sounds altogether. She grabbed a couple of Tylenol from her nightstand drawer, chased them with lukewarm bottled water and tried to refocus on the late night movie. She hoped those pills kicked in soon. The tingle in her arm was getting worse.

***

Kyle was careful with his little sister. She acted tough but he knew she was a fragile flower. He wanted to make her first time a special one. He knew he did not have the patience to unpeel her slowly like she did him; her words were designed to drive him wild with lust and rid her of her unwanted purity as soon as possible. Yet he knew he had to settle down at least a little. Passion was all well and good but if he ripped her open as his lust demanded she'd get no pleasure at all. Fortunately, Kyle had a way to accomplish that while readying her for penetration. He stood her up and stripped her quickly, then guided her to the edge of his bed. He spread her long legs wide and held them there while he licked her freshly shaven pussy.

She gasped softly as the pleasure radiated from her core to her extremities. Her hands gripped his covers and her back arched. She still had the presence of mind to at least attempt to be quiet, though that very effort seemed to spur her brother to greater efforts. His tongue swirled faster and faster over her clitoris; it was getting difficult for her to remember why she had to be quiet in the first place. Her hands transferred from the bed sheets to his head. She gripped his hair, nearly tearing it from the roots as he continued to drive her insane with his magical tongue. Wave after wave of pleasure hit her and soon she was holding on to him for dear life. Then the dam broke and she screeched before she could stop herself. She quieted quickly but she realized Kyle would not be satisfied with that one exclamation. He was only getting started.

***

Ellen had started to relax again. The Tylenol had just started kicking in. She was halfway back to sleep, mere moments away really. Then she heard it, a high-pitched shout, almost a bark. It was muffled, the door was closed, but it seemed to be coming from somewhere in the house. She knew she wouldn't get to sleep after hearing a noise like that. It was time to investigate and she would not do it alone.

"Wake up Dan," she said as she attempted to rouse him. He was such a heavy sleeper that it took a couple shakes before he started to respond. He grumbled a few nonsense words and turned over. "Dan! Wake up!" she stated with a bit more urgency. "I think there's someone in the house."

"Leave me alone woman. It's just your imagination. Probably the kids playing the TV too loud or something. Go back to sleep." He tried to roll over again but Ellen stopped him.

"Really Dan, can you stop dismissing my concerns for one second and just listen? I know what I heard. I think there is something going on in this house and I need you to get up and see."

Dan, barely awake and surly said, "Okay, I'm listening. I don't hear anything." There was another moan, louder, as if mocking his earlier assertion. "Fine, I heard it too," he said, his aggravation evident.

"I'm worried Dan. What if it's one of the kids? What if they're in trouble?"

"What's gotten into you Hun? Like I said before, it's probably one of the kids with their TV on too loud. No need to go all mother hen all of a sudden."

"Can you just check it out for me?" she asked in an acid tone, frustration with her husband starting to show.

He sighed. "If I check this out, will you let me go back to sleep?" She nodded firmly. "Fine," he said. "Let me get my robe. But you're coming with me. I want you to see that it's really nothing so that I can get some peace tonight."

***

Cece's shouts of pleasure sounded like the Harmony of the Spheres to him. He couldn't get enough. He felt her body relax from her latest orgasm, he'd lost count of how many he'd induced. She'd begged for him to make love to her then; he was ready to accommodate her. He grabbed the dark towel hanging from his closet door, folded it and placed it under her bottom. She was ready, he'd made certain. He kissed her deeply as he entered her. He stopped for a moment upon encountering that familiar resistance to wipe sweat from her brow. He looked into her eyes and silently asked for assent. She gave it with a sharp nod, steeling herself against the promised pain. She flinched as he tore through her hymen with one mighty thrust. There was pain but it faded much more quickly than she had expected. She urged him to continue.

Their bodies moved in concert, a perfect point and counter-point to each other. Her ankles interlocked behind his back and her arms held him tight. He was in tune with her, more than with any other woman save maybe Myra. Her hard nipples drilling into his own chest as she held him tightly felt heavenly. He was intoxicated by her moans and cries of pleasure. He loved that she could no longer hold them back. He could not hold back either; soon he was saying her name lovingly with each thrust. He was rapidly approaching climax. He felt that she was right there with him. Her nails had already begun digging into his deltoids.

"GET OFF MY DAUGHTER YOU SON OF A BITCH!!!" interrupted Dan as he rushed into the room. He didn't notice who was on top of Cecelia, only that some guy was violating her. Ellen, coming in behind her husband, saw the scene more clearly. She saw her two children, the fruit of her loins going at it like wild animals. She saw her enraged husband trying to protect his little girl's virtue too late. She saw her son stiffen, too deep into the act to stop his traitorous penis from spilling his seed into his sister, too deep in the act for any sort of interruption short of the Rapture to make a damn bit of difference. She saw it all in an instant. It was too much. She collapsed right there in her son's doorway, her eyes still wide open in pain. She would not rise again.

Present...

Am I dead? Kyle thought as he floated in a drug-induced haze. I remember the accident. Why am I not dead? His eyes were not working properly; one was pitch black, the other watered up even in what he recognized was faint light. Where am I? He turned his head with difficulty, silently willing his brain to work. He reached up to his face and felt it. A bandage? His normally sharp mind moved sluggishly as he tried to put the pieces together from his limited vision.

His brain caught the strand he'd been grabbing at and wished he had not. Hospital, he thought foggily. He shied from the emotions evoked by that one innocuous word. The last time he'd been in a hospital he'd said goodbye to his mother. The memories flooded back with him powerless to banish them. He remembered following the ambulance, weaving in and out of traffic, unwilling to let those flashing lights out of his sight. He remembered sitting in the waiting room while the doctors worked to bring her back from death. He remembered the doctor's face when he came out to tell him they'd failed. He remembered standing in the hallway just outside her hospital room, too ashamed to go in to hold her cold, lifeless hand. Mostly he remembered his father's face filled to bursting with anger and pain, could still see him form the words of banishment. Just go, he'd said, deflated and broken, eyes bright with unshed tears. I never want to see your face again.

He remembered his sister's stricken face when he walked away. He didn't fight his patriarch's decision, didn't rail against the injustice of it all, didn't even say goodbye. He just packed his bags and drove until he ended up back in Arizona. His sister, his poor, naïve, innocent sister had tried to tell him that he was not at fault for the tragedy, that their mother already had a bad heart. She'd tried to tell him that he was not the despicable human being he thought he was, but he knew she was wrong. Banishment was a fitting punishment for the likes of him; only a firing squad would have been a better one. His forbidden lust had killed his mother. He could not bear to hurt anyone else he cared anything about because he could not control himself.

So lost in the involuntary trip down memory lane he didn't realize for some time that he was not alone in his room. She'd stirred from her sleep as he did, somehow feeling it when his eyes opened. She came to stand in his field of vision and looked down on him, waiting patiently for his world to come into focus. When he finally noticed her his heart skipped a beat. He felt overwhelming joy followed by despair. Seven years and three states away, and I still want her just as bad as that summer. I am so fucked up. It was an older Cecelia, tempered by time but still beautiful at 25. More beautiful even; it seemed the woman he'd obsessed over when she was 18 was not the finished product.

She grabbed his hand and turned her gaze to him, her expression somber. "Hi bro-bot," she said softly. "Welcome back." Then she smiled, her relief evident.

He didn't know what to say. He'd been estranged from her for years, had not ventured so much as a phone call. For all his fantasizing about her, she was the next best thing to a stranger. He'd known her all his life and yet she was a stranger. He felt pain that had nothing to do with his injuries at the sight of her beautiful visage standing next to his bed, the pain of loss, of separation. She reminded him of everything that was ever good in his life and everything he'd managed to fuck up. He could not face her; he wasn't nearly strong enough. He turned his head away. "What are you doing here," he asked with an edge he could not quite keep out of his voice.

Her hand tightened on his in seeming anger but she kept her tone light. "Isn't it obvious? My brother almost died so I came to visit." Then she added with a bite of sarcasm, "I sure hope that doesn't inconvenience you."

"Yeah, well I'm fine," he said, shame making his words come out harsh, bitter. "Give it a couple weeks and I'll be right as rain. No need to bestir yourself on my account. Say hi to dad for me."

"Dad's gone," she said. He could hear the misery in her voice. "He died about a month ago. The same day Mom did." Her voice hitched. "The day before your accident."

He tried to hide his overwhelming sorrow from her though he couldn't stop the tears. Despite the banishment he loved his father. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice emotionless. Then he laughed. It was a nasty laugh, full of self-hatred. "It's amazing. I keep losing the people I care about. Can't you see Cecelia? I'm a lustful monster but I just keep on ticking. I'm the one who deserves to die but everyone I love keeps dying instead. At this rate I'm gonna live forever and I'll have to see you get buried. Or probably not. I seem to have a nasty habit of missing funerals."

She let go of his hand. For a brief moment he thought she was going to leave, quite probably disgusted with his maudlin attitude. He felt she'd have been right to do so; he did not deserve her love. He soiled her and their mother had paid the price. She surprised him. Instead of leaving she grabbed his face and forced him to look at her, her perfectly manicured nails leaving indents in his cheeks. "Stop it Kyle," she commanded, her face mere inches from his. "Stop taking the blame for everything, you self-righteous prick. You did not kill mom. You did not kill dad. You did not steal my fucking virtue, whatever the fuck that means. I miss my brother and I'd really appreciate it if he got his head out of his ass and quit the self-pity routine." She was nearly shouting by the end. She made no effort to stop her tears.