Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title: Fighting my Desire


Summary: What happens when you fall in love with your sister?


Keywords: inc,fic



   I was fifteen when my mom told me that she was pregnant.  To say that I
was shocked would be an understatement.  Don't get me wrong, I knew that my
parents still had sex, they were very open about their affection for each
other, but my mom was in her late forties and I was a teenage boy who had
never before heard the term Change of Life Baby.  Apparently my parents
hadn't either because Frankie was as much a shock to them as to me.

   I remember the day she came home very clearly, but after that it's a
blur for a lot of years.  Not my fault really, I was a very active teenage
boy.  I was proud to be a straight A student, a varsity swimmer and a
basketball player.  I had my future mapped out in front of me.  I was going
to graduate high school, go to an Ivy League College and become an
investment banker with a top company.

   My parents were proud, if a bit dismayed, by my motivation and drive. 
My mom and dad were both laid-back, far-left, college professors.  They
both taught at the same small Liberal Arts University where my mom was a
professor of Asian studies and my dad, who was older than my mom by 15
years, was a professor of English, specializing in Lord Byron.  From my mom
I learned to speak Japanese by the time I was three and from my dad I
learned more poetry than anyone should ever know.

   My dreams of banking were like another planet to my parents and though
they didn't understand my desires, they nevertheless supported me.  I'm not
exactly sure why I wanted to be an investment banker, maybe I saw it a
movie or something, but if so I don't remember.  I just know that ever
since I was small I loved both math and money.  What better way to combine
the two?

   When I graduated high school and moved to Connecticut for college my
sister Frankie had just turned three.  She was an adorable kid with huge
blue eyes and curly blonde hair, but she was just a baby.  Though I had
babysat her a few times, fed her a bottle frequently and even changed a
diaper or two, she was still a stranger to me.  I loved her, but in the way
that you love a cute fluffy dog that your girlfriend owns and that you have
to put up with in order to get laid.

   When I graduated college Frankie was eight and she came with me and my
mom as we searched New York City for my first apartment.  I already had a
job offer, at a top three bank that I had done summer internships with
during college, and I was riding high on my success.

   I remember that day clearly and I especially remember Frankie.  As we
sat eating lunch after successfully finding me a place I looked at her and
saw to my surprise that my baby sister was growing up.  She was tall for
her age, but that was normal for us, we're a tall family.  My mom is 5'10
and my dad and I are both 6'3.  Her hair had darkened by that point to a
light brown, but it was as curly as ever, but what struck me that day
wasn't the physical changes in Frankie it was the mental ones.  Despite
only being eight she was smart and funny as she and mom spoke to our waiter
in Japanese.

   My mom was giving me hard time that day about living in New York City.
Despite having grown up in a big city herself-San Francisco-she thought New
York was too crowded, too dirty and too big.  I was surprised when Frankie
said, "Come on Mom!  Leave him alone.  This is Matt we're talking about. 
He'll be fine.  He can do anything he sets his mind to!"

   I was touched not only that she had defended me, a rarity in our family,
but that she thought of me like that.

   As the years passed and I settled more and more into my new life and my
job, I went home less and less.  Even though it was only four hours by car
I was too busy making money and a name for myself to think of my family.  I
was still a good boy though.  I called my parents every Sunday without fail
and I never missed going home at Thanksgiving and Christmas, but it was
never for more than a day.

   As Frankie grew up I heard a lot about her on my calls home.  My mom's
favorite topic of conversation became how similar Frankie and I were.  Like
I had been at her age she was driven and determined.  Too determined, my
mom thought.

   In high school Frankie was on the swim team like I had been, but she was
also on the debate team, student council and did a lot of other things that
I don't even remember now.  My mom was worried that she was so determined
in her scholastic life that her personal life was falling to the wayside.
Mom said that Frankie only had two close friends and she spent the majority
of her time studying.

   More than once on those calls I told my mom not to worry.  If Frankie
was like me, I said, than she would be fine.  That didn't make my mom feel
any better.  She was constantly telling me that I needed to get out more,
to find a 'good' woman and learn to relax.  I always agreed, told her I
would work less, and then went on with my normal life of work, work, work,
fuck a strange woman, and more work.

   I loved my mom, but she didn't get me anymore than she got Frankie.

   She also asked me, over and over again, to reach out and make a
connection with my baby sister and I really meant to, but somehow I never
found the time.

   I was thirty-one the Christmas that that things with my sister changed.
I arrived home early on Christmas morning, about eight, and the first thing
I saw when I opened the front door was Frankie.  She was coming down the
stairs in her pajama shorts and top, and I froze.  Fuck.  How was this my
baby sister?

   Her hair was a light golden brown, still curly, and she was almost as
tall as my mom.  She wasn't skinny at all, she weighed more than society
would tell you was attractive, but it was pure muscle from all the swimming
and exercise that she got.  Her breasts had started to fill out and already
she had a bigger chest than my mom, but it wasn't even the sight of those
breasts on my baby sister that made my heart stutter, it was her legs.

   They were long, so fucking long, and they were tanned to a beautiful
golden color.  Her pink pajama shorts were short, so short that they made
her legs seem even longer and I had the sudden urge to run my hands up
those golden legs until they disappeared under her shorts.  I hadn't
realized I was a legs man until that moment.

   "Look!  It's the prodigal son returned home from the wars!" She said as
she ran down the rest of the stairs and hugged me.

   I was careful, I had to be, not to let her feel my erection.  I returned
her hug with a lot less enthusiasm than I once would have.  This was my
baby sister.  You do not get an erection at the sight of your baby sister's
long legs.  You do not want to run your hands up those legs.  You do not
have sudden images of her wrapping those long, long, golden legs around
you.

   "Cat got your tongue?" she asked with a grin.

   Dear God, when did she get so gorgeous?  I thought, but I didn't say
that.  I couldn't.  It wasn't what an older brother said to his baby
sister. I had to clear my throat before I could talk.  "I was just
wondering when you got so ugly."

   At that she slapped my arm and laughed.  "Come on, mom is chomping at
the bit already about how many hours we have with you before you have to
turn around and go back to New York."

   I rolled my eyes and took off my coat, careful to make sure that my
shirt was covering my receding erection, before following her into the
kitchen.  My mom was already hard at work at the counter cutting and
chopping vegetables for our Christmas dinner and my dad was sitting at the
table telling her about an article he had read about some poet.  Typical
behavior for my parents.

   "Look who's here," Frankie said as I followed her into the kitchen.

   My parents turned around and my mom rushed over to hug me.  "Oh look at
you, you're way too skinny," she said, which was her usual refrain upon
seeing me.

   "Matteo, welcome home son!" my dad said and I moved to hug him, but not
before I saw Frankie roll her eyes.  Having a romantic minded father who
loved everything about Italy meant having names like Francesca and Matteo.
We shrugged it off within the family, but in the wider world and to
everyone else who knew us, we were just Frankie and Matt.

   My dad looked older and frailer to me, he was seventy-eight that year
and I worried about his health.  My mom later assured me that he was
healthier than ever and there was no way to know at the time that it
wouldn't be my dad who would leave us first, it would be my mom.

   I spent a happy, if rather uncomfortable, Christmas day with them.  I
talked and laughed and Frankie and I had our first real conversation that
day, but even after she changed into jeans and a sweater, I could not get
her long golden legs off my mind.

   *

   Two years later my mom died.  It was sudden and unexpected.  One day she
was fine, the next she was diagnosed with cancer.  She had five months from
the day of diagnosis to the day she died.  They were five hellish, brutal
months.  I took off work the last month and went home.  When I slept, which
wasn't much, it was on the couch.  My parents had converted my old room
into a writing office for my dad.

   To watch your mother, who had always been tall, strong and healthy,
slowly wither away in agony is not something I would wish on my worst
enemy. There were days when no amount of morphine could control her pain.
Days when she would scream and beg me, my dad or the hospice nurse to let
her go, to just kill her.

   Those were the days when I felt like I was losing my mind.  Days when
the end couldn't come soon enough and yet it was also approaching much too
quickly.

   If I was in hell, then Frankie was in a much worse place.  She was just
eighteen years old.  She should be worried about college classes, make-up
and dates with boys, not watching out for the nurse as her older brother
turned up the dial on her mom's morphine drip.

   We spent a lot of time together, Frankie and I, but we didn't talk. 
Instead we sat in the backyard in silence, enjoying the autumn breeze and
selfishly loving that for just a few minutes we didn't have to hear our mom
yelling in agony.  Once in a while she would reach over and take my hand
and I would squeeze hers back.  In a way she was my lifeline during that
time and I was hers.

   Thankfully I didn't notice her legs during that long, long month.  I was
too busy watching my mom die to even think about the unnatural urges that
I'd once had towards my baby sister.

   It wasn't until the funeral that I even remember looking at her face. 
When I did, what I saw scared me.  Her once tanned, healthy face was gaunt
with deep, dark circles under her eyes.  For a minute, in my still twisted
mind, she looked as sick as my mom had.  I must have made a noise because
she turned in the pew to look at me.  "What?" she asked.

   "You don't look good." I said, unkindly.

   That comment brought me the ghost of a smile.  "Thanks big brother. 
That's so sweet of you to say."

   I shook my head.  "Sorry.  Sorry.  I just mean, you need sleep, you need
food probably.  When's the last time you ate?"

   She shrugged her shoulders.  "I don't know.  Whenever you and dad did."

   I frowned at that.  I didn't remember eating...in days.  Shit!

   "Why didn't you say anything?  I would have bought you food, I would
have made you something!" I said in aggravation.

   She put her hand on my arm.  "Matt, calm down.  It's okay.  I'm a big
girl.  If I was hungry I could've made myself something.  I just didn't
feel like it."

   I nodded.  Of course she was right.  She wasn't a child anymore.  She
knew how to cook, probably better than I did, and she only had to say the
word and I or dad would have given her money.

   The funeral was as terrible as could be expected.  Sitting there as the
minister made a bullshit speech about life everlasting was agonizing.  I
didn't fucking care about the afterlife, I wanted my mom back in this life!
I turned at one point and saw what seemed to be the same look on my dad's
face.  I hadn't grown up with any religion, but my mom had and her sisters
had insisted on having it be a part of the service.  Dad, Frankie and I
endured it for mom.

   A week later I was back at work and busier than ever.  Leaving for six
weeks to help take care of a dying parent made me look weak in the
financial world.  I was determined to prove that I wasn't so I worked
longer and harder than ever.

   I went home at Christmas, but nothing was the same.  We went through the
motions, but the three of us were miserable.  Instead of my usual day I was
staying for two days this time and by Christmas night the sense of gloom
hanging over the house was too much.  I told my dad that I was going for a
drive.  He nodded and continued reading the book in his hand.

   I was almost to the car when Frankie came running out of the house. 
"Matt are you leaving without saying goodbye to me?"

   I looked up at her.  She was still wearing the yellow dress and black
heels that she had worn when we went out to lunch.  "I'm not leaving," I
said.  "I just needed to get out of there.  I'm going for a drive."

   She smiled at me.  "Can I come?"

   I looked at her.  I had noticed over lunch that she was looking a lot
better.  Her skin was tanned again and the yellow of her dress brought out
the gold highlights in her brown hair.  She looked, I thought, beautiful.

   "Please," she said, not understanding my hesitation.

   "Fine!  But you have to tell dad."

   She nodded and clapped her hands like a little girl and ran back inside.
When she came back a few minutes later she was wearing her black wool coat.
"He said its fine, but you know dad.  When's he's immersed in a book he
really doesn't hear anything you say so I also left him a note."

   I nodded.  Unfortunately for me my sister wasn't just beautiful she was
smart as well.

   We were halfway down the block before she asked, "Where are we going?"

   I sighed.  "I don't know!  A ride.  Just sit back and be quiet."

   She didn't say anything else and for about half an hour as I drove I was
able to forget about her.  We had crossed over into Maryland before she
spoke again.  "Matt?"

   "What?"

   "I'm hungry."

   I looked over at her in exasperation.  "You're always hungry lately," I
said.

   She smiled at me.  "Of course I am!  I work out a lot and I'm a growing
girl."

   My eyes, of their own volition, traveled down to her chest.  Dear God
she was right about that.  "What do you want?" I growled.

   "Baltimore has that burger place that mom used to take me to.  She said
she used to take you too when you were little, do you remember it?"

   I nodded my head and had to fight back the sudden sting of tears at the
mention of our mom.

   "Can we please go there?" She asked in a sweet voice.

   I nodded without looking at her again and kept driving.  A few minutes
later she turned on the radio.  "Do you have an iPod?" she asked.

   I rolled my eyes, would she ever shut up?

   I pressed a button and the center console opened.  She looked down and
laughed.  "Are you kidding me?  CD's?  Matt it's time to come into the
twenty-first century!"

   "Shut up," I said, not wanting to be reminded of the fact that I was so
much older than she was.  She rummaged around for a few minutes and then
she put in a CD.  I was surprised at what she had chosen.  "These guys are
my favorite," I said to her.

   I turned to look at her and she nodded.  "I know.  Mine too."

   "Really?"

   She smiled at me and tilted her head.  "Of course!  Don't you remember
when I was about ten I bugged you about what kind of music you listened to?
Who your favorite bands were?"

   I shrugged.  Honestly I didn't remember that at all.

   She looked a little hurt at that.  "I emailed you and asked you all
kinds of questions.  What music you liked, what TV shows you watched, your
favorite movies, foods, color, everything!  I wanted to be just like my big
brother."

   I nodded in relief.  I did remember those emails.  Every morning for
over a year I had gotten to work to find an email from her.  Luckily for me
that was back in the days before I had a secretary.  I had answered each
one, not rudely, but impatiently, not understanding at the time why she was
asking.

   She turned the air vent nearest her to point up and away from her and I
automatically reached out to turn the heat down.  She squirmed a little in
her seat and I asked, "Is the heated seat too hot?" She shook her head.

   "I was a little obsessed with you," she continued.  "I drove mom and dad
crazy with questions about you when you were my age.  I poured over the
things in your bedroom.  I read every book you saved, every school
notebook, every scrap of paper, trying to understand you."

   I grimaced at that.  "I hope not everything."

   She laughed and I turned to look at her.  She nodded her head. 
"Everything!  Even your porn collection."

   I shook my head in horror.  Some of those porn tapes contained really
horrible stuff.  Stuff I would never, ever, want to do.  My best friend in
high school, Josh, had been a real sicko.  The more twisted the porn, the
more Josh loved it.  Josh also loved to gross me out, and he tried his best
to find porn that would revolt me.

   Frankie laughed again.  "I have to say Matt, some of those tapes shocked
me."

   "Some of them?" I asked.

   She nodded again and I caught the thoughtful look that flashed across
her face.  "Some of them I liked.  Some were...different and some were just
gross."

   I wasn't touching the fact that she liked some of the porn with a ten
foot poll.  I could not think of my baby sister watching porn.  At least
not while I was sitting so close to her.

   "Josh Hawthorne," I said with a grimace and she laughed and said, "I was
young, but even I knew he was strange."

   I sighed and nodded in agreement.  That was very, very true.

   We didn't talk for a few minutes, just listened to the CD she had put
in. I was the one who broke the silence this time.  "So they're your
favorite band too?"

   I turned to look at her.  It was a little after five and already the sun
was starting to set.  She looked even more beautiful in the fading light.
She nodded.  "I love them and no, not just because you do.  I started
listening to them because you did, but I fell in love with them.  I love
the lead singer's voice and the lyrics he writes are so beautiful.  They're
not an ordinary punk band are they?"

   I shook my head.  No they weren't.

   "I've been to see them in concert," she said and I turned to her in
shock.  "You have?"

   She nodded.  I had to ask, "Mom and dad let you?"

   She laughed at that.  "Of course not!  I told them I was staying at my
friend Pam's house."

   "Pam?" I asked.  I had never heard mom mention a friend named Pam.

   She laughed again and she sounded so young and carefree.  "Pam is my
imaginary friend who I stay with when I want to stay out all night."

   Shocked, I turned to look at her and my foot came up off the gas pedal a
little bit.  "What?  What the fuck are you talking about?  When do you stay
out all night and what do you do?  She shook her head.  "Calm down Matt. 
Don't get us in an accident."

   Pissed off, but knowing she was right, I looked back at the road.  Her
hand came out to touch my arm and I felt the heat of it through my coat. 
"Sometimes I like to go to shows so I say I'm staying at Pam's house."

   I counted to twenty before I asked my question.  "Do you go to these
shows by yourself?  What do you do after if you don't go home?"

   It was her turn to shrug.  "Sometimes I go by myself.  Sometimes not."

   I turned to look at her.  "Who do you go with and where do you stay?"

   "It depends," she said.

   I was almost shouting as I asked, "Depends?  What the fuck does that
mean?"

   She had a look on her face that I had never seen before as she said, "Do
you know this is the first time you have ever cursed in front of me?  I
wasn't sure you had it in you."

   I rolled my eyes and took a deep breath.  "I don't curse in front of you
because you're my baby sister and I'm supposed to be setting a good example
for you."

   She laughed at that, but before I could grill her anymore she squealed.
"Oh this is our exit, get off here!"

   I nodded, changed lanes and exited the interstate.  The burger place was
a mile down the road and as I pulled in I asked, "Do you want to go in?"

   She shook her head.  "No, can we just eat in the car?  These shoes hurt
my feet."

   I looked down at her black heels and nodded.  I pulled through the
drive-thru and ordered two cheeseburgers with everything, two onion rings
and two strawberry shakes.  When we got our food I pulled to the back of
the parking lot and parked under a light.

   I handed out our food and napkins and then said, "Please be careful. 
This is the first time I've ever had food in my car.  I have a strict
policy about no eating in here."

   She looked up at me and raised an eyebrow.  "You mean the women you go
out with actually eat real food?"

   I didn't answer her.  What the fuck did she know about the women I went
out with?

   We ate in silence for a few minutes before she said, "Can you hold this
for a second?" and handed me her burger.

   She put her onion rings in the extra cup holder and as I watched she
took off her seat belt.  "What are you doing?" I asked.  She picked up her
heels and put them in the back floor board before moving down in the seat.

   "These panty hose are killing me," she said as she pulled her dress up
and reached under it.  She didn't pull the dress any higher than her thighs
and I saw nothing inappropriate...except...when she pulled her panty hose
down her underwear came with them.  I will never forget, not as long as I
live, the sight of those peach silk underwear.

   I'm not sure how I controlled myself, but I did.  No matter how hard my
heart started pounding, no matter how hard my dick instantly got, no matter
how much I wanted to grab those panties and hold them to my nose and then
lick them, I did not.

   She was my baby sister and for the thirty seconds that it took for her
to wiggle those panties back up and on, I did not betray one single emotion
or thought that I had.

   I sat in silence for at least twenty minutes, not talking, barely
eating, just trying to calm my racing body.  When the image of those
panties flashed through my mind I pushed them out over and over again. 
Finally, when I was in control of myself again, I asked, "So who do you go
with and where do you stay?"

   She laughed around the straw that was in her mouth.  Her mouth...dear
God why had I never noticed her mouth before?

   "Sometimes, like I said, I go alone.  Sometimes I go with friends.  I
stay at my friends' houses."

   "Friends like Pam?" I asked.

   She grinned at me.  "No.  Not like Pam.  These friends are real."

   I tilted my head.  There was more going on than she was wanting to tell
me.  "And what are these friends' names?" I asked.

   She sighed.  "Mike and Tony."

   I looked at her and my heart stuttered in my chest.  She was staying
over with two guys.  "Mike and Tony?"

   She nodded.

   "Are you fucking Mike and Tony?" I know my voice was loud, it
reverberated back at me from the enclosed car.

   "No" she yelled in indignation.  "Don't be an idiot!"

   "Why I am an idiot?  My baby sister tells me she lies to our parents,
sneaks out to concerts and does it with two guys!  What the fuck else am I
to think?"

   She looked at me and for a second she looked like my mom.  That made me
pause and take a deep breath.  "Do you always cuss this much?" she asked.

   I looked away from her and frowned at the windshield.  "Yes, actually I
do," I said.  "Fuck is my favorite word."

   Something in my stomach, something dark, twisted at saying that word to
her so openly.  Normally, I did curse a lot.  It was something that my boss
liked about me.  I may have been an Ivy League educated whiz kid with an
above-average IQ and excellent speaking skills, but in private I had a
filthy mouth.  But that was a side of myself that I had never shown my
family.  One that I carefully kept on a leash when I was home with them.

   "Matt," she said softly, but I didn't turn to look at her.

   "Matt," she said again and put her hand on my arm.  I turned to look at
her then.  "I'm eighteen now and besides that, Mike and Tony are gay.  They
were seniors when I was a freshman and we met and hit it off.  They're just
friends."

   I nodded at that, but really I was focused on her hand.  She had moved
it down my arm and was now lightly stroking the back of my hand.  I looked
up at her, I don't think she even realized what she was doing.  She was
looking out the windshield at the now dark night as she said, "I've always
had a hard time making friends.  It's hard to find people who like you when
you're different."

   I frowned at that and at the flatness of her voice.  "What do you mean?
How are you different Frankie?"

   She didn't look at me.  She just continued to look out the front window
as she said.  "Come on, you know.  I've always been different."

   I shook my head in denial.  I didn't know that.  To me she was perfect.

   "You're beautiful and smart.  How could anyone not want to be your
friend?" I asked.

   I saw the side of her mouth go up in a faint smile, but still she didn't
turn to look at me.  "I've always been different," she whispered.  "I was
always smarter than the other kids, even in elementary school.  Then as I
got older and I got more into the things that you that liked...the punk
music, the math, "she shrugged before saying, "I just never fit in with
other girls."

   I shook my head.  I'd had no idea that was going on.

   She continued, "Then I met Mike and Tony and everything was ok.  It's
hard to be different at our school you know?"

   I did know that.  She was going to the same private school that I had
once attended and though they prided themselves on being open-minded and
diverse, in reality they were anything but.

   She finally looked at me.  "I was so lonely before them.  Mom said that
was why I was so obsessed with you.  I wanted to do everything that my cool
older brother had done.  I wanted to be just like you.  I wanted to feel
close to you."

   I had to swallow at that.  If she knew the kind of closeness my sick
mind wanted she would run screaming from the car.

   We finished eating our dinner as she told me stories of all the concerts
that she had been to.  Even with my busy work schedule I still made sure to
go to as many shows as I could and yet she had, at only eighteen, been to
more than I had.  We traded stories and laughed for over an hour as we
talked and ate our food.  It was a night I will always remember.

   We got home after Midnight and dad was already in bed.  I said goodnight
and went upstairs to take a shower.  Again and again as I washed myself the
thought of her peach underwear and her smiling face went through my mind,
but no matter how much my cock wanted me to touch it, I refused.  She was
my baby sister.

   Later, much later that night, I felt something and rolled over to see
her standing over my bed.  "What's wrong?" I asked.

   "I miss mom," she said and there were tears in her voice and on her
face.

   I nodded and pulled back the covers.  She crawled in beside me and when
she put her head on my chest I almost had a heart attack.  A few minutes
later she was asleep, but I stayed awake all night long.  Me and my rock
hard cock.

   *

   When I went back to work it was to find an email from Frankie waiting on
me.  It was funny and informative.  She told me about college life and kept
me informed about dad.  Despite my fears at leaving the two of them he
hadn't retreated into himself and left her alone.  He made sure to spend
one weekend a month with her in Connecticut and they would go out to dinner
and movies, and one weekend a month, Frankie went home to him.  I was proud
of him.  He was a lot stronger than I had given him credit for.

   Over the next month, against my better judgement, Frankie and I grew
closer and closer.  Every morning when I got to work there was an email
waiting on me and a few times a week she would call me.  I knew I was in
over my head when one night she didn't call like normal and I freaked out.
Finally, unable to work or doing anything but worry about her, I called
her. She answered on the third ring and said, "I'll have to call you back
later.  Can't talk!"

   I was pissed.  Now that I knew she was okay I was jealous.  What was she
doing and who was she with that she couldn't talk?

   She didn't call me back for three hours and it was a miserable few hours
for me.  Even though almost everyone else in my office was gone, I had work
I was supposed to be doing, but that was impossible.  Instead I paced up
and down my office as I thought about all the things she could be doing.

   When my phone finally rang a little after eleven, I picked it up and
screamed into the phone.  "Where the fuck have you been?"

   She laughed.  She actually had the fucking nerve to laugh.

   That pissed me off even more.

   "Well?  Where the fuck have you been?"

   "Were you worried about me?" she asked.

   Had any other girl asked me that I might have thought she was flirting
with me, but this wasn't any other girl, this was my eighteen year old
sister.  I couldn't exactly tell her that I wasn't worried, but rather
jealous, so I said, "Yes!  Of course I was.  If you hadn't called soon I
was calling dad."

   "Oh no!  Not that!" she said and laughed again.

   "You wouldn't think it was so funny when dad grounded your ass for being
somewhere you weren't supposed to be!"

   "Matt," she said, and she was no longer laughing.  "When are you going
to remember that I'm eighteen years old?  And anyway Dad was with me!  I
was at debate meet.  Dad came to watch."

   "What?" I hadn't expected that.

   "Our school had a debate with a school from Boston.  Dad came to watch."

   I let out a deep breath at that.  Here I had been picturing her fucking
some young asshole, his hands on her, his cock in her, and she had been at
a school function with my dad.  I felt like an idiot and the realization
that I had been as jealous as I had been, worried me.  She was my sister. I
needed to stop acting so fucking weird.

   "Matt?" she said into the silence.

   "What?"

   "I'm sorry I worried you."

   I shook my head to clear it and took another deep breath.  "Why didn't
you tell me in your email this morning that you had the debate?"

   It was her turn to sigh before she said in a soft voice, "I didn't want
to tell you and then bomb it.  So I waited to see how I did."

   I frowned at that.  She just wanted her older brother to be proud of her
and here I was thinking sick thoughts about her.  What the fuck was wrong
with me?

   "How did you do?" I asked.

   She laughed and she sounded once again like a happy teenage girl.  "We
won!  We won!  Next up is the Final and it's between us and a college from
out West.  Will you come and support me?"

   I didn't answer right away because I knew I needed to say no.  I didn't
want to hurt her feelings, but it was getting harder and harder to know
where the line between us should be.  I was starting to care for her.  It
was no longer about just lusting after my eighteen year old sister, I was
starting to fall in love with her.

   I sat down at that thought and luckily for me my desk chair was behind
me.  Fuck!  I was falling in love with my baby sister.

   "Matt?"

   "I'm here," I said, but my voice was rough and gravelly.

   "Please Matt?  I want you to be there and then after we can take a walk
around campus.  I want to know the places you went and the things that you
did when you were here.  You know I wanted to go here ever since you did.
It was my dream to follow in your footsteps."

   I closed my eyes and ran my hand across my face.  I was one fucked up
human being.  I had realized at Christmas that she hero worshipped me, the
way a lot of young girls do with their older brothers, and now here she was
looking for connection after our mom died, looking for support and instead
of providing it, I was the sick son a bitch who dreamed of fucking her. 
Who dreamed of sticking my cock in every hole she had.

   I cleared my throat.  "I don't know Frankie.  I'll have to see what my
schedule looks like.  Okay?"

   I heard the disappointment in her voice as she said goodbye and it
almost broke my heart.  I didn't want to hurt her, but for my sanity and
her safety, I had to stay as far away from her as possible.

   She emailed me the next morning, but I didn't answer.  After a month of
me not answering her emails or phone calls, she stopped trying to contact
me.  I felt like the biggest piece of shit on the planet.

   My dad called me in April, it had been almost two months since I had
talked to him, to remind me of the debate final.  When I started to make
excuses why I couldn't go he cut me off, "Matteo I don't give a shit what
your excuse is or what you have to cancel.  You will be at your sister's
debate.  Do you understand me?"

   I had never heard my father curse before and it stopped me in my tracks.
"Do you understand what I am saying Matteo?  Your sister needs you there. I
need you there.  You will be there.  Understand?"

   I nodded, but then realized he couldn't see me so in a quiet voice I
said, "Yes, Sir."

   "Good.  Good.  We're also going out to dinner afterwards.  No excuses
from you."

   "Yes, Sir."

   "Good.  Now we'll see you Saturday.  The debate starts at nine so you
should be there no later than eight-thirty."

   "Yes, Sir."

   With that he hung up.

   *

   I arrived at my alma mater at eight, but too nervous to see Frankie or
my dad I walked around campus for a while.  I realized with a shock as I
walked around that I had no great memories or fondness for the place. 
Although I had sat my sights on it as a young boy, I had made no real
connections at the school.  I had never partied, I had been working too
hard on my plans for the future to do that.  Instead I had done as I'd done
all my life.  I kept my head down, worked my ass off, and when the pressure
got to be too much I went to a bar, met a pretty girl and fucked her
senseless.

   That was still my modus operandi and had been my whole life.  Work,
work, work, let the pressure build, let off steam, and then go back to
work. And while I was hugely successful at work and on my way to being
extremely rich, I wasn't living a very fulfilled life.  Maybe that was why
I had fallen in love with Frankie.  She had been the first real connection
I had made in my life.

   Thinking that I understood myself and the situation better I made my way
to the auditorium where the debate was being held.  It didn't take me long
to find my dad since there wasn't that many people there.

   When he saw me a look of relief went across his face.  When I got to him
he said, "Thank God you came.  I was afraid I was going to have to go to
the city and hurt you."

   At first I thought he was joking, but then I realized he wasn't. 
Frowning, I sat down next to him.  We didn't talk for a few minutes, just
watched as the people in charge set up everything.  It was dad who finally
spoke.

   "Listen Matt." That was odd, he never called me Matt.

   "I understand that you're a busy man.  I know that you have your own
life, but please be kind to your sister.  Not just for her sake, but for
your mom's as well."

   I looked at him and saw that there were tears in his eyes as he said,
"Francesca is a lot more vulnerable than she lets on.  She acts like she's
dealing with mom a lot better than she really is.  At night she still
cries. She thinks I can't hear her, but I can."

   I looked away from him at that.  Hell, there were times at night,
especially as I was about to drift off to sleep, that I remembered my mom
was gone and I had to fight not to cry.

   I blinked to clear my eyes and looked back at him.  "Yes, Sir.  I'm
sorry.  I've been selfish."

   He smiled at me and patted my arm.  "No.  You're a good boy.  I know
that.  You just get so focused that you forget everything else.  I know
that.  I just..." he trailed off and looked down.  When he looked back up
his eyes were full of tears again, "I have to be me, but now I also have to
be your mom.  So I need to remind you that there's more to life than work
and money.  Happiness is the most important thing in the world.  I just,
mom just, wanted you to be happy."

   I nodded at him and felt emotion clog my throat.

   Ten minutes later Frankie and her team took the stage.  As she walked to
her seat I saw her glance at the audience and I knew when she saw me.  Her
huge smile transformed her face and I felt like an even bigger asshole than
before.

   As I watched my sister...and her team, decimate the other schools team I
felt proud and sadly more than once, I felt turned on.  She was so fucking
smart and such a Rottweiler with facts that I felt my dick hardening.  It
might be nerdy, but I don't give a fuck.  I was sexually aroused by her
brilliant mind.

   Afterwards, when her team won hands-down, she came flying into the
audience and before I could stop her she grabbed me in a hug and pressed
her body up against mine.  I couldn't help it, for a second mind stopped
working and I pressed my erection into her stomach as she hugged me.  It
lasted only a second and luckily she didn't notice.  By the time she had
said goodbye to her professor and her team, dad and I were waiting out
front for her and I had calmed down.

   We spent a few hours walking around the campus as she asked questions
about my time there.  When she realized she knew more than I did about the
school she laughed and took over.  Dad said, "See Francesca, while being
focused is good, getting too focused like Matteo does isn't good.  I want
you to learn while you're here, but I also want you to have fun.  Enjoy
life."

   Frankie and I shared a smile at dad's speech.  My dad seized any
opportunity given to lecture.  Afterwards we went out to lunch and while
eating Frankie told me about applying for a summer internship at the bank
that I worked for.  When she told me she listed my name as a reference she
suddenly seemed shy.  "That's okay isn't it?" she asked and I grinned.  "Of
course it is!  I'll give you the best recommendation anyone has ever
gotten."

   She smiled at that and I felt bad for abandoning her the way I had.  I
wished so much that I could explain it to her, but there was no way in hell
I would ever be able to.

   After that she began contacting me again and I answered every email and
every call.  No matter what I was doing, I was never too busy to talk to my
baby sister.

   In May I met a woman at work, Lucy, and knowing that I had to take what
I was feeling for Frankie and put it somewhere else, when she asked me out
for drinks, I accepted.

   She wasn't really my type, but she was the exact opposite in physical
appearance of Frankie, so I forced myself to date her.  She was blonde,
skinny and though she was smart, the fire that Frankie had, that interest
in life, was missing.  There were times in fact, when she bored the shit
out of me.  All the guys at work commented on how lucky I was to be fucking
the hottest woman there, but I didn't feel lucky at all.  I knew who I
really wanted, but I couldn't have her.

   Life continued on for a couple of months.  Work, work, work, fuck Lucy.
My life was starting to seem tedious, even to me.  In early July Lucy asked
to move in with me and I felt like throwing up.  I could barely stand her
as it was, living with her twenty-four seven would be hell on Earth.  I
made some excuse and put her off for a while, but I knew it wouldn't last
long.  For some reason she had set her sights on me.

   In the middle of July my dad called me to remind me that it was
Frankie's birthday the next week and to tell me we were taking her out.  I
knew there was no backing out and besides, I didn't want to.  It had been
three months without seeing Frankie in the flesh and I needed a fix. 
Though she had been working at my company, she had been placed, to my
relief, at a branch in DC.

   Lucy wanted to go home with me, but I flatly refused.  I hadn't told
Frankie about her yet, now was not the time.  I knew, even as I thought
that, that I wasn't being rational.  Frankie wasn't jealous about who I
dated, it was the other way around.

   I lived in fear, as she grew older, of the day when she would tell me
she met someone.  I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to cope with
that.

   I met them at the restaurant and as soon as I saw Frankie I knew that my
little problem, as I thought of it, hadn't gone away even one little bit.
Instead it had intensified.  I loved her more than ever and my desire for
her was a dark and twisted thing.  Had she been any other girl it still
would have been wrong, she was only just nineteen, and I was thirty-four.

   It was a long night for me.  Frankie was wearing a beautiful green lace
dress that hugged her curves and made her perfect young tits stand out. 
Her brown hair was pulled back from her face and the lights above made the
golden strands shine.  She was the most gorgeous thing that I had ever
seen.

   We talked about her plans for fall classes and we reminisced about our
mom.  Mom was sorely missed that night.  When it came time to give presents
she laughed as she took the box from me, "Did you buy this or did your
secretary?"

   I shook my head at her.  "Come on Sis!  Give me some credit.  I wouldn't
do that.  I personally went to the store and picked it out.  I even had it
engraved."

   She smiled at me and tore open the box.  When she saw the silver bangle
bracelet from Tiffany's she teared up.  "Oh don't cry you big baby," I
teased.

   She looked inside and when she saw what I'd had engraved she really did
cry.  She got up from the table and came around to hug me.  "I love you
Matt.  I love you so much!"

   I hugged her back, careful to keep my mind off her breasts and then
looked over at my dad.  For once, he looked proud of me.

   We had a great dinner and at the end of it I followed them back to the
house for cake.  Dad lit the candles and Frankie blew them out.  We each
ate a piece of cake and then dad said it was time for him to call it a
night, he had an eight o'clock class to teach the next morning, It was way
past time for him to retire, but he refused and I knew now that mom was
gone the job and Frankie were the only things keeping him going.

   When he went to bed Frankie looked at me and in a conspiratorial whisper
she asked, "You want to see what Tony gave me for my birthday?"

   I grimaced.  "Probably not," I said, but she ignored me and got up and
went to her room.  When she came back she had a bottle of champagne.

   "You're nineteen not twenty-one," I said and I hated that I sounded like
an old man.

   She stuck her tongue out at me.  "Come on Mattie.  Have a drink with me.
Please?"

   I shook my head.  "I still have four hours to drive home.  As it is I'm
not going to get any sleep."

   She sat the bottle down on the table and grabbed my hand.  "Mattie live
a little.  Let's play hooky from work tomorrow!  That way we can drink this
whole bottle now and then tomorrow we can go do fun stuff."

   I shook my head.  "No way!  First you want me to let you drink and then
you want me to help you skip work?  That's not how you get ahead in life
young lady."

   She put her lips together and pouted while batting her eyelashes at me.
"Please Mattie?  For me?  It's my birthday.  Live a little.  I've never had
a drink before and I want my first time to be with you."

   Dear lord I almost came in my pants at those words.  I wanted her first
time to be with me too, but not her first time drinking.

   That thought stopped me in my tracks.  What would I have said if I
hadn't been in love with her, if I'd just felt about her the way that
normal brothers feel about their sisters?  What would I have said then?

   I tried to put my feelings aside and I realized that I probably would
have said yes.  A normal brother wouldn't be afraid of letting go and
having fun with his sister.  He wouldn't have thought much about it.  He
would have opened the champagne and drank it with her without a second's
hesitation.

   So that's what I did.  I grabbed the bottle from her, pulled off the
foil wrapper and popped the top.  She smiled at me and as she went to get
glasses I picked up my phone.  I called my secretary's voice mail and left
a message that I was sick and wouldn't be in.

   I felt more than a little nervous as I hung up.  I had never called in
sick before.  Even when my mom was dying I had gone in and talked to my
boss and explained the situation.  Other than that time I had never been
out of work or school one single day.  What a fucking nerd I was, I
thought.

   Frankie must have been able to sense my thoughts because she asked, "You
okay?  Worried?"

   I looked up at her.  Despite her words of concern she was grinning at
me. I shook my head and picked the bottle back up.  "Shut up brat," I said
as I grabbed one of the glasses she had in her hand.  "Let's get drunk."

   I didn't get drunk, but she did.  The champagne was cheap and nasty and
after one sip I refused any more.  Frankie didn't hesitate though.  She
just grimaced and chugged the bottle despite my warnings that she would be
sick.

   After a few chugs she calmed down and we started to talk.  She asked a
lot of questions about work and I answered them.  It was about half an hour
later when she asked about women.  "So are you seeing anyone?"

   I looked at her.  The smile on her face was starting to look a little
tipsy.  "Come on Mattie, aren't we friends?  Friends tell each other about
their lives."

   She sure as hell wasn't my friend.  I wanted her too much for her ever
to be that.  "Please Mattie, you tell me and I'll tell you."

   That intrigued and worried me.  What did she have to tell?  Was she
seeing someone?

   I didn't want to tell her anything, especially not about the woman I was
currently fucking, but the desire in me to know about her love life was too
strong to resist.  So I said, "Lucy."

   She frowned and grabbed the bottle to take another drink before asking,
"How long?"

   "Couple months," I said.

   She took another drink.  "What's she like?"

   I shrugged my shoulders.  Lucy was the last thing in the world I wanted
to talk about.

   "Come on, tell me!"

   I looked at her.  She was definitely on the tipsy side.  "There's
nothing much to tell.  Her name is Lucy, she works at our company.  She's a
VP in tech.  We met earlier this year and started dating."

   Frankie looked at me over the bottle as she took another drink.  "Is it
serious?  Do you love her?"

   I quickly shook my head.  I had no problem admitting that.  "No.  Not at
all, but she wants to take it to the next level."

   Frankie grimaced.  "What the fuck does that mean take it to the next
level?"

   I started to tell her not to cuss, but stopped myself.  In her young
eyes I was already an old man, no reason to make it worse.  "She wants to
move in together," I said.

   She choked on the gulp of champagne she had just taken and sputtered as
she said, "What?  You just started dating?  Isn't that moving a little
fast?"

   I nodded in agreement.  "I think so, but she says that she's not getting
any younger.  Like me she's thirty-four and she's ready to settle down and
start thinking about the future."

   Frankie's eyes got wide at that.  "Settle down?  Like marriage and
babies settling down?"

   I nodded my head.

   "Shit Mattie that woman's crazy.  You need to dump her!  Even I know you
don't talk about marriage and babies to a man you've only been dating a few
months."

   I laughed at that.  What did my baby sister know about dating?  I said
that to her and it was her turn to laugh.  The tone of it made a chill run
across my back.  She sounded so grown up, so jaded that it worried me.

   "So I shared, now it's your turn.  Tell me Frankie, are you dating
anyone?"

   She smiled at me and took another drink.  "Not anymore, but I was."

   I gulped at that.  I didn't know who he was, but I had a sudden urge to
find him and kill him.

   Frankie took a few more drinks before she sat the now empty bottle down
on the table.  She stood up and moved to the chair next to me.  She was
still wearing that figure-hugging green dress and once again my eyes were
drawn to her breasts.  I was her brother, but I was also only human.

   She leaned in and I smelled the champagne on her breath as she said. 
"Chuck."

   I jerked back.  Not because of her breath, but because when she was that
close to me the urge to kiss her was almost too much to resist.  "Chuck?" I
asked with derision.

   She nodded.  "We had an Economics class together.  Back in April we went
out on a date."

   I raised an eyebrow at that.  "Did dad know about your date?"

   She nodded.  "Of course!  Dad met him.  He liked him, and Mattie I was
eighteen, you keep forgetting that."

   Fucking dad!  What the fuck was he thinking letting his teenage daughter
go out on a date?  Eighteen was too young.  She was too young!

   I started to say that, but before I could Frankie said, "Tony and Mike
think he's a nerd.  They say I can do much better."

   She could do much better I thought, she could date me.  I might be a
workaholic, but I was good looking, I had a good body, I worked out, ate
right.  I was smart and well-educated and one day soon I was going to be
very rich.  I knew that most of the women I fucked thought I was perfect,
at least until I refused to do more than fuck them.  Frankie, I thought,
needed a man like me, not some nerdy boy.

   The thought, even as it crossed my mind, made me feel sick to my
stomach. I was her brother, not a potential date, not a potential...lover.

   "You know what?" she whispered and leaned in further.

   I didn't want to know, I really didn't, but I couldn't help whispering
back, "What?"

   She lifted her hands and rubbed the back of her neck.  She looked as if
even in her drunk state she wasn't sure if she should say what she was
about to say.  "It wasn't good."

   My stomach dropped at that.  "What wasn't good?" My mouth asked the
question my heart did not want the answer to.

   "Sex," she whispered and leaned back in her chair.

   My stomach felt sick and I thought for a moment that the piece of
chocolate cake I had eaten an hour before was going to come back up.  A
cold sweat broke out on the back of my neck and I had to concentrate to
keep from throwing up.

   That one word, sex, hurt more than any word had the right to.  Even the
fucking c word-cancer-that I had come to dread when my mom was sick, didn't
come close to how this word coming out of Frankie's mouth made me feel.

   "You had sex with him?"

   She nodded and frowned.  "And it was awful.  A.  W.F.U.L.  Awful.  I
didn't even cum!  He pumped in me twice and came and I was lying there
feeling nothing!  Then he rolled over and went to sleep."

   I was in hell.  I was down in that deep, dark place that I had retreated
to in the last days of my mom's life.  The two things shouldn't compare,
but they did.  Hearing the woman I loved, the woman I longed for with every
fiber of my being, describe having sex with another guy was just as bad as
my mom dying.  And I know that's fucked up, but there it is.

   I wanted to stop her, to beg her to shut up.  I wanted to run screaming
from the room and erase this conversation from my mind, but I couldn't say
anything.  I was worried what would come out if I did open my mouth.

   "I've cum before you know."

   I looked at her.  How could she not see the hell she was putting me
through?

   "I found your porn stash when I was ten, but it just grossed me out.  A
few years later when mom and dad were packing up your stuff I went and got
it before they could see it.  I took it to my room.  Well...some of it I
threw away because it was just gross, but I kept a lot of it.  And as I got
older..." she paused and looked at me.  "When I got older I used it.  The
first time I masturbated was to one of those movies."

   I closed my eyes.  I could not look at her as she talked about
masturbating or I might reach my hand out and pull her to me.

   She kept going.  "I watched some of those movies so many times that I
wore them out and had to throw them away.  Now I've only got two left, but
I bought more."

   I opened my eyes at that and looked at her.  She nodded.  "I used my
allowance and bought a money order.  I bought a vibrator and some movies
through an online website.  And had them sent to Mike's house."

   I put my hands under my legs, trying to keep them locked in place. 
Sister, I told myself over and over again.  Sister.

   Nineteen no longer seemed that important.

   She smiled at me.  "I can cum so hard with that vibrator, but with
Chuck, nothing!" she swiped her hand to the side and then scrunched up her
nose.  She was completely wasted I realized.  "It makes me so sad to think
I threw away my first time on him," she whispered.

   I was in full agreement on that, but I didn't say anything.  She leaned
forward and put her hand on my leg.  She leaned her weight on my leg as she
moved towards me.  "What I needed was a man like you."

   And with that I was up and out of my chair and across the room in two
seconds flat.

   She was drunk.  She was my nineteen year old baby sister and she was
totally drunk.  I had to get out of there.

   I have no idea what I said, or how I got out, but I did.  As I was
racing towards home on I-95 I kept saying one word out loud to the darkness
around me.  "Sister, sister, sister, sister,sister..."

   *

   I wasn't sure if she remembered the things she said to me, but the
following Monday morning I found an email from her in my inbox at work.  It
was goofy and silly, the perfect email from a teenage sister.  I replied,
but I kept it short and sweet.  If she noticed, she never said a word.

   A week after I got back to New York, Lucy and I moved in together.  It
didn't take long to realize that it was a huge mistake, but I was too lazy
to rectify it.  It was easier to put up with her bitching and spend more
time at work than it was to find a new apartment.  I knew the situation
couldn't go on forever, but I just kept pushing it off.  I had bigger
problems than living with a crazy bitch.

   Frankie and I kept up our emails and once in a while she would call, but
when she did it was always when she was home with dad and he was always
right there.  I would talk to her for a few minutes and then she would put
dad on the phone.  That was fine by me.  The less I talked to her, the less
I had to work on pushing down my feelings for her.  At least that's what I
told myself.

   For Thanksgiving I went to Lucy's parents with her.  That made it even
clearer to me that there was no future for us.  Her mom was an even bigger
bitch than she was, and her dad looked miserable every moment that we were
there.

   My dad was disappointed that I wouldn't be coming home, but when I told
him why he was pleased.  He thought I was finally getting some pleasure out
of life.  Of course, he hadn't met Lucy yet.

   At Christmas I had no choice but to invite her home with me.  I say no
choice because she left me none.  She bought us plane tickets because it
was much easier to fly than drive, she said, and she went out and bought
Dad and Frankie presents.  I spent the hour and twenty minute plane ride
drinking.

   Lucy, of course, had to comment, "Matt I have never seen you have more
than one drink.  What's wrong?"

   "Wrong?" I asked.  "Nothing.  Why would anything be wrong?  I'm just
trying to get into the holiday spirit," I said as I waved at the stewardess
for another.

   The stewardess was my new best friend.  At first she had refused to
serve me alcohol, after all it was only eleven in the morning, but three
crisp one hundred dollar bills...and Lucy being nasty to her, soon changed
that.  She brought me drink after drink and when we finally landed at
Dulles I was feeling pretty good.

   Lucy was in front of me as were leaving the plane and she didn't see
that as we passed my new best friend, the stewardess, she slipped her phone
number into my hand.  I thought about throwing it away, but then looked at
her again.  Her hair, while not exactly the same shade as Frankie's was
pretty close and she had blue eyes like my sister.  She would work in a
pinch I thought, and I smiled at her as I left the plane, stuffing her
number in my pants pocket.

   I meekly followed behind Lucy as we got our luggage and then made our
way to the rental car counter.  I was so drunk by that point that I could
barely walk, and Lucy was furious with me, but I was beyond caring.  Even
as she screamed at the rental car clerk, demanded a manager and then an
upgrade and got exactly what she wanted, I watched it all without caring.

   Furious that she had to drive in DC traffic while not knowing where she
was going made Lucy even more fun to be with.  By the time we got to my
parent's house she had called me every name in the book, insulted my
manhood and told me countless times that I was a selfish bastard and she
hated me.  It was already turning out to be such a wonderful Christmas.

   Five hours later I was wishing that I was still drunk.  My dad,
disgusted with me as well for being drunk, had been nothing but kindness
itself to Lucy.  Frankie, who had laughed when she saw that I was drunk,
didn't go out of her way to make Lucy feel welcome.  She was downright rude
most of the time.  But despite all that we had made it through the
afternoon and now I was stone cold sober and wishing to God I wasn't.  Life
had seemed so much better when I was drunk.

   We went out to dinner as a family and Frankie and Dad got to see Lucy in
her glory as she demanded her way through the meal.  Even the best four
star restaurant in DC wasn't up her standards and she sent her meal back.
When we left, three hours later, I left the waitress a five hundred dollar
tip.  She deserved it for putting up with Lucy.

   We went home and went to bed and I was happy when Lucy gave me the cold
shoulder.  There was no way in hell that I was fucking her with Frankie
down the hall.

   As she snored next to me I couldn't help but compare the two of them. 
Lucy, like me, had fifteen years on Lucy, but it was more than that.  Where
Lucy was hostile and confrontational.  Frankie was laid back and funny. 
Plus, in my eyes, Frankie was the best looking woman...or girl...that I had
ever seen and it wasn't just the exterior.  Her inside was as gorgeous as
her inside.

   I went to sleep thinking, as always, of my sister and when I woke up the
next morning I had a raging hard-on.  It was so painful that had Lucy been
in the bed next to me, I might even have fucked her, but she was already
gone.  I jerked off in the shower and when I went downstairs it was to find
out that Frankie had gone to Mike's, dad was in his office reading and Lucy
had booked a spa appointment.

   With nothing to do I wandered around the house and without thinking I
found myself in Frankie's bedroom.  I hadn't been in there for years and it
looked a lot different.  Instead of stuffed animals and rainbow prints it
looked like the room of a woman.  A woman I didn't know as well as I
thought I did, I realized as I snooped.  I looked in the pretty little
boxes she had sitting around, opened her jewelry box and saw things that
had been my mom's.  I opened the closest and touched her clothes, putting
my nose to them to see if they smelled like her.  I opened the laundry
basket, but to my disappointment it was empty.

   Sitting on her bed, I opened the bottom drawer of her nightstand and
realized that I had found the mother lode.  Under a school notebook was a
purple vibrator, some dirty movies, a book about women's sexual fantasies
and an anal plug that vibrated.

   The anal plug and the book stopped me cold.  I got up from the bed, went
over to the door and looked out in the hall to make sure my dad wasn't
around before shutting and locking the door.  I went back over to the bed
and picked up the book.

   It was, as the title suggested, a collection of women's sexual
fantasies. The book fell open naturally to one story.  The corner of the
page had been turned down and looked worn as if it had been read a lot.  It
was about a girl and her cousin, another girl, playing around sexually. 
They kissed and touched, even ate out each other's pussies, but it was the
ending of the story that blew me away.  One day as the girls were in the
barn eating each other out, the older brother of one of them had stumbled
upon them.  Instead of being disgusted or mad, he had joined them.  He had
taken turns fucking the girls, one of them his sister, as the girls ate
each other out.

   I was sitting there, on the side of my sister's bed, reading her book,
with the biggest erection I had ever had in my life.  My sister had read
this story.  My sister had rubbed her pussy to this story and maybe even
fucked her own ass with the anal plug while reading this story.

   Had Frankie walked in at that point I know that there is nothing in this
world that could have stopped me from fucking her.  Not the fact that she
was my sister, not the fact that she was only nineteen, nothing could have
stopped me.

   But she didn't walk in.  I was alone.  In her room, with her
masturbation material, holding her anal plug in my hand with my throbbing
cock making my pants too tight.  Without a seconds hesitation I brought the
anal plug up and put it in my mouth.  I thought that I caught the faintest
taste of something, but I couldn't be sure.  I didn't need it anyway.  The
moment the plug, the one that had been in my sister's ass, was in my mouth,
I came in my pants.

   I came in my pants, sitting on the side of my sister's bed with her anal
plug in my mouth and I have to be honest here, because why the fuck not? 
It was the best fucking orgasm of my life up to that point.

   *

   When I was finally able to pick myself off the floor, where I had fallen
during my orgasm, I made my way to Frankie's bathroom and turned on the
shower.

   In the shower I washed the cum off my legs and groin and was about to
soap the rest of me up when I had a thought.  Getting out of the shower, I
quickly dried off and made my way back over to the bed.  I picked up the
anal plug from the floor and went back into the bathroom.  In the shower I
braced one arm on the wall and with my free hand I put the anal plug at the
entrance of my asshole.  I had never had anything in my ass before, but I
was too turned on to be nervous.  Leaning forward I pushed it in.  It was
tight, I hadn't lubed it up, but I didn't want lube on it.  I wanted
nothing but the remnants of my mouth and my sister's ass.

   Finally it went and it wasn't exactly comfortable, but I didn't care. 
By that point my cock was pointing straight up and I turned my body so that
my ass was facing the shower.  I pulled the plug out a little and let it
get wet and then rammed it in again.  I turned the switch on and as it
roared to life, vibrating inside my ass, my cock jerked and I came all over
the wall of Frankie's shower.

   I probably spent more than an hour in her room, but I was beyond caring
about being caught.  Had anyone, even my dad, walked in on me, I probably
would have spilled my guts and told them I was in love with my baby sister.
I cleaned everything up and put it back where it belonged, I was careful to
cover my tracks, except I couldn't dry the tub.

   As I walked past her dresser to leave the room I opened the top drawer.
It was her underwear drawer and towards the back I spotted the peach pair
that I had seen that day the year before when we went to Baltimore for
burgers.  I put them in my pocket, closed the door and left the room.

   An hour later, I was on my way to Alexandria, Virginia, where I was
going to meet the stewardess for a drink, and I hoped, for a fuck.  Though
I had just come in my pants and all over Frankie's shower, it wasn't
enough. I was like a man possessed and I needed to fuck my sister or at
least someone who looked like her.

   *

   The Christmas nightmare, as I liked to call it, went on for another few
days.  Lucy and I spent most of the time apart and thankfully I didn't see
much of Frankie.  I still spent a lot of time masturbating in her room when
she wasn't there and I was lucky that I didn't get caught.  I came close
more than once.

   I also spent a lot of time fucking Karen, the stewardess.  The more
possessed I became the more she grew to look like Frankie in my eyes.  I
must have fucked her ten times in the four days that we spent in DC.  She
even drove over to my dad's late one night and I sat in the passenger seat
as she rode my cock.  I never took my eyes off Frankie's bedroom window as
I fucked the woman, who in my eyes, had become her substitute.

   Some would probably say I lost my mind during those four days and maybe
I did.  All I know is that those four days allowed me to go back to New
York in a better frame of mind.

   *

   Life went on normally, or as normally as it could for me.  I worked my
ass off, made a lot of money for other people and myself, argued constantly
with Lucy and at night, locked in the bathroom by myself, I masturbated
with my sisters peach panties.

   In May Frankie won an award from the investment bank that I worked for
and that she had interned at.  She had been named their top intern of the
previous summer and the prize included a scholarship to fund her final two
years of college.

   Lucy wanted to come with me to DC, but I refused.  I needed at least one
weekend without the crazy bitch.

   It was a good weekend too.  My dad was looking older, but still healthy
and Frankie, who grew more beautiful by the day, looked happy.  Like me she
was already rising through the ranks at college and I was more proud of her
than I could say.  When I told her I had a present for her she rolled her
eyes but when she opened it she looked up at me in shock.  "You can't be
serious," she said.

   I nodded and she turned to look at dad.  "Did you know about this?" she
asked him.

   Dad grinned wide as he said, "He asked me if it was alright and I said
it was.  This way you have no excuse not to come home to see me."

   We went outside and I was worried when she let out a soft, "Oh!"

   I turned to look at her.  "What?  You don't want it?  You wanted a brand
new car?  That's okay.  I can get you one.  I wasn't being cheap, I just
thought..." she interrupted me, "No!  I love it.  It's perfect, but Matt
how can you give me your car?  You love that car."

   I looked at her.  More than anything I wanted to tell her in that moment
what was in my heart.  To say that yes I did love my car, the Porsche SUV
was the first thing that I'd bought that I really cared about, but I loved
her more.  And I loved the idea that she would be driving the car that I
loved so much.  That she would be driving the car that we were in when I
realized that I was falling in love with her.  That even if I couldn't be
with her, at least my car could.

   But I couldn't say any of that, I couldn't, so I just said, "It's okay.
I don't ever drive it in the city.  I only drive it to come see you and
dad. I'll just get the train now."

   She shook her head.  "No you won't!  We'll come see dad together and you
can drive us in your car.  We won't say that you're giving the car to me,
we'll just say that we're sharing it."

   She smiled at that, and like the idiot that I was, I fell a little more
in love with her.

   *

   When Lucy found out what I had done, that I had given my car to my
sister, she went ballistic because I hadn't asked her first.  She didn't
talk to me for four days.  I was okay with that.  Four days of her not
talking to me meant four days of peace.

   Ever since Frankie's award ceremony I had been falling further and
further into dark territory.  I still worked just as hard, but I spent a
lot of time at home and at work, in the bathroom, masturbating in Frankie's
underwear.  The peach pair had become thin and delicate so when I went home
for her ceremony I had stolen a few more pairs of her underwear.  The new
ones didn't hold as much meaning as the peach ones, but at least they were
hers.

   Had you told me when I was a teenage boy what kind of man I would
become, I probably would have killed myself.  A workaholic who lived with
his shrew of a girlfriend and masturbated daily in his sisters panties
didn't sound like a very happy life, and it wasn't.

   I was working more than a hundred hours a week and sleeping in the
office most days by the time summer rolled around again and Lucy was no
longer hinting about getting married, she was full-on demanding.  She may
have hated me, but my boss loved me.  In June alone I netted the company
more than two hundred million on my own.  Career-wise I was on top, the
place that I had spent my life working to be, and yet the rest of my life
was a nightmare.

   By the time July fourth rolled around I had completely stopped having
sex with Lucy, I didn't trust her not to get pregnant on purpose to trap me
into marriage.

   I should have been stronger.

   Friday night we rented a car and went to the Hamptons to a party at her
friend's house.  We had been invited to stay the weekend and I dreaded it.
Her friends were all stuck up assholes, the kind of people I had spent both
my school and working lives trying to avoid.

   Though I had gone to the same schools as they had, worked in the same
kind of company that they did, I didn't feel like one of them.  I didn't
want to be one of them.  My parents were not One Percenters and I was proud
of that.  We were solidly middle class and I liked it.  I didn't want to
have a house in the Hamptons, a fleet of fancy cars and a yacht.  I didn't
want to hobnob with assholes and I certainly didn't want to be married to a
Stepford wife who sat on boards and ran charities in her spare time.

   I did my duty Friday night and stayed at Lucy's side.  We went to bed
after two in the morning and when later she rolled towards me and touched
my cock I was so grateful for the human contact that I didn't stop her.  We
fucked and even though it was as bland and boring as ever, I felt better
just to have been touched.

   When I woke up the next morning though, nothing had changed.  Lucy was
as bitchy as ever and after a few hours of sitting by the pool drinking and
watching her gossip with her friends I left the house and started walking
on the beach.  I wasn't drunk but I had a nice buzz going and after walking
down the beach a couple of miles I just sat down and stared out at the
ocean.  The longer I sat there mesmerized by the waves the more depressed
that I became.

   I took a cold hard look at my life and what I saw made me sick.  I was
thirty-five and all I had to show for my time on this Earth was a fat bank
account and a cold bed.  The woman I loved didn't, and couldn't, love me. I
lived for my job and spent more time there than I did away from it and when
I wasn't at work I was at home being treated like shit by a woman who
claimed to love me.

   The sudden crystal clear thought hit me out of the blue.  This wasn't
what life was supposed to be about.  I had seen, once upon a time, a sign
somewhere that said, 'We are not meant to just work and pay bills' and yet
that was exactly what I had been doing.  I lived in an apartment I no
longer cared about with a woman I had never cared for and worked a hundred
hours a week for people who wouldn't miss me if I died tomorrow.

   I sat on that sand through the afternoon, past the sunset and well into
the night.  When I had finally found some answers I stood up and made my
way back to the house.

   In the bedroom Lucy was already asleep and I thought about waking her
and telling her what I had decided, but then changed my mind.  I was tired
and I wanted some sleep, so I took my clothes off and crawled in next to
her.  When she touched my cock again during the night I rolled eagerly
towards her.  I needed sex right then and she had a pussy.  It meant
nothing more to me than that.

   The next morning when she woke up I was awake and waiting for her.  When
I told her what I had decided she reacted the way that I had expected.  She
screamed and yelled, even threw things at me.  Her friends all came running
and when she told them that I was dumping her they quickly escorted me out
of the house.  I was okay with that.  I was done with her.  Done with
putting up with her abuse.  I was ready to make changes in my life.  She
was a part of my past and so was my love for Frankie.  Though I couldn't
put Frankie out of my life, I could limit my exposure to her.

   Later in July when Frankie's twentieth birthday rolled around, I sent a
present and a card telling her I was sick.  She sent a thank you email and
that was that.  I still talked to her and my dad once a week, but they were
safe, neutral conversations.  I didn't tell them about the changes I was
making in my life.  I didn't want to tell anyone yet.  In September she
started back at school in Connecticut and our phone calls stopped.

   After three months of blissful silence from Lucy, she emailed me at
work. She was pregnant and the baby was mine.  She was willing to have a
DNA test to prove it.

   *

   We got married in late October at the courthouse.  My dad came, but
Frankie sent me a text saying she couldn't make it.  That was okay by me. I
didn't think I would be able to handle marrying someone else with her
beside me.

   In December, Lucy lost the baby and that, depending on how you look at
it, was the beginning of the end for us.  By February of the following year
I had moved out of our apartment and was living in a loft in Brooklyn.  It
wasn't exactly my style, but anything was better than living with Lucy.

   We were divorced in August, our marriage didn't last even a full year,
and I went home to my dad's for Thanksgiving.  Once again Frankie couldn't
come and dad and I spent the long weekend eating take out and watching
football, which we both hated.

   I went home again for Christmas and this time Frankie came, but I wasn't
happy to see her because she brought a guy with her.  He wasn't, thank God,
a rich preppy kid, instead he was a young kid who lived in New Haven and
worked at a punk rock record store that Frankie went to.  Although I hated
her having any boyfriend, at least he wasn't like Lucy and her friends. 
That wasn't who my sister was, and I wanted her to avoid my mistakes.  I'd
fucked up my life, I didn't want her to do the same thing.

   My dad made him sleep on the couch, but I spent a lot of nights in my
room that week, listening for the sounds of him creeping to her room so
that they could have sex.  When they were out I was my normal voyeuristic
self and I snooped through her room, but I saw no trace that they were
having sex, not even condom wrappers in the bathroom waste basket.  More
than anything I wanted to suck and fuck her anal plug, but I couldn't do
it. They probably used it together and the thought made me sick.

   When she wasn't looking I watched her.  She had gained a few pounds, but
I liked it.  I thought the softness made her even more beautiful.  We were
in the middle of eating dinner on Christmas day when she spoke up.  "I have
something I want to tell the two of you," she said and looked from dad to
me.

   My heart dropped into my stomach.  She was only twenty-one, a junior in
college, there was no way in fuck dad would ever let her marry this young
punk!  And if he did well then I would stop them somehow.  I was about to
say that when she spoke again, "I changed my major at school."

   It took me a few minutes to understand what she was saying.  I was so
intent on killing the kid sitting across from me that at first I didn't
think I had heard her correctly.  Dad, not as fucked up as I was, quickly
asked, "When and to what?"

   She smiled at him shyly, "At the beginning of the new year in September
I changed it to English Lit."

   Dad smiled back in happiness and I sat staring at her stunned as I
asked, "What?  Why the hell would you do that?"

   She looked at me, for the first time all day and I didn't like what I
saw on her face.  She looked at me like I was a stranger.  "Because I don't
want to be like you anymore."

   Silence fell at the table.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw dad turn
towards me as he said, "Frankie!  You don't mean that."

   She nodded.  Not looking at him, but looking straight into my eyes she
said, "I do mean it.  Look at him dad.  Look at what he's become."

   She turned from me to look at dad, but I never took my eyes off her. 
What she said had felt like a body blow, but the look she gave me was
worse. My baby sister, my Frankie, had looked at me with pity in her eyes.
The baby sister who had once worshipped me, was now disgusted by me.

   "I knew last year that I no longer wanted to major in Finance, but I
wasn't sure what I wanted to do until I took a class on poetry." My dad
smiled at that and I watched the two them share a moment.

   She went on, "When we got to Byron it all came back to me.  All the
times that you would read him to us, your stories about him and how excited
you became.  So when it came time to write my final paper I wrote it on
him. My professor was impressed and we talked.  This past summer I took a
course that he taught on Byron and Shelley and I loved every minute of it.
I realized for the first time then that school could be fun.  That it
didn't have to be all about work.  That it was okay to love what you were
studying and not to just work hard and endure it."

   It was my turn to speak up then.  In a voice close to a whisper I said,
"I loved my finance classes."

   She looked back at me and her face was sad again.  "You did.  I remember
that.  You also once loved your job.  You did it because you loved it.  Can
you still say that?"

   I didn't answer her and she smiled a sad smile.  "I didn't think so. 
Look at what you've become Matt.  Look at what your life has become. 
You're thirty-six years old, is this really how you want to continue
living?"

   "Frankie..." dad started to say, but I interrupted him.  "I was going to
change my life."

   Dad turned to look at me as Frankie asked, "You were?"

   I nodded.  "Then why didn't you?" She asked.

   I looked down at the table, unable to meet her eyes any longer and see
the judgement in them, "Lucy got pregnant."

   "And that's reason enough to give up your life?  That's so stupid Matt.
You could have just given her money, you could have agreed to shared
custody!  You didn't have to throw your life away and marry her!"

   She was yelling by the time she was done and dad, her boyfriend and I
stared at her.  She looked back at me, never taking her eyes from me.  She
was crying as she asked, "What is wrong with you Matt?  Why can't you be
happy?  Is it because of mom?  Is that is?  Are you doomed to be miserable
because mom died?"

   I shook my head at her.  I was fucked up because of mom, but that wasn't
the reason why my life was shit.  My life was shit because I was in love
with my sister, and had been since she was sixteen years old.  I had spent
the past five years in love with someone I could never have and I was
unable to find happiness without her.

   "Then why?" she asked again, but of course I couldn't tell her.

   *

   Our happy little Christmas party broke up the day after her confronting
me.  She went back to school in New Haven and I took the train back to New
York, but I wasn't there for long.  At the end of January I quit my job,
converted everything I had to cash, put my apartment on the market and
moved to a small island off the mainland of North Carolina.  I bought a
house, a hundred year old sea captain's cottage, bought a business that
rented out boats to tourists and set up shop.  It was the off season, but I
was content to relax.

   I learned to fish and though it wasn't something I enjoyed it helped to
pass the time.  Call me a wimp or a city boy if you want, but I always
threw back the fish I caught.  I might be starting a new life, but I still
preferred to have my fish handed to me on a plate.

   Because I still had my New York phone number my dad didn't know about
the move for a few months.  I wanted to be settled into my new life before
I invited him to come down and see me.  He came in July and even though the
season had started I had help at the boat place so I could take time off to
spend with him.

   I really wasn't interested in the business to make money, I had more
than enough money to last me the rest of this life and most of the next,
but I needed something to occupy my time.

   I even thought that maybe in a few more months, maybe a year, I might
get into trading stocks online.  It would be a way to ensure that I never
went broke even if I started a thousand businesses that went bust, and if
the idiot traders that I had met could do it, I was sure I could as well.

   Dad spent a month with me and by the end of it he was as tanned as I
was. He also seemed happy.  He had gone on a couple dates with a woman who
owned a jewelry store on the beach and one night he hadn't come home until
after two.  Though I didn't ask him about it, I was pretty sure that he got
lucky that night.  The thought made me smile.  He deserved to be happy, to
have fun.  He had been an amazing husband and a father.  He had never once
faltered taking care of Frankie after my mom died.  She would have been
proud of him.

   I told him that one night, as we sat in deck chairs on my houses widow's
walk.  It was the perfect place to watch the sun go down and it had become
our habit of drinking a beer and watching the sunset each night.  He was
eighty-five then and despite his age he looked good.  He had started eating
better and working out after mom died, he said it was because he wanted to
be there for Frankie and I as long as he could.

   He smiled, not at me, but at the sunset, and took a swallow of his beer.
"Thank you for saying that, but it's not true.  I haven't been a good
father to either one of you."

   I spit my own beer out in shock, "Dad, how can you say that?  You've
been an amazing father!"

   He shook his head and looked at me.  "No I haven't and we both know it.
If I was a good father then you wouldn't have the problems that you have."

   I shook my head in confusion.  "Dad my problems had nothing to do with
you.  It was like Frankie said at Christmas and like you've been saying for
years.  I was always too focused, too determined to be a success that I
never stopped to think about whether that success would really make me
happy."

   He looked away and then looked back at me.  I will never forget that
moment.  The sky had turned orange and purple and his tanned face glowed in
the light.  "Son, don't.  Not now Matteo.  Let's be honest with each other.
I don't know how long I've got left and I want to be honest with you at
least once before I die."

   My eyes filled with tears.  "What are you talking about?  Are you sick
dad?"

   He shook his head.  "Not like that.  Nothing's wrong with me but a
sickness of the soul.  Coming down here, seeing you building this life,
watching you work so hard to be happy when we both know you won't be, that
you can't be, is killing me."

   That hurt.  That hurt a lot.  "I am happy.  I am."

   "Matteo."

   Just that.  Just my name.

   I nodded.  "I am Dad.  I'm happy."

   He shrugged.  "Okay, maybe you are, maybe a little, finally.  But aren't
you tired of running Matteo?  Because I'm tired of watching you run.  I'm
tired of seeing you so miserable, of watching you fight against your own
soul."

   I looked at him, not understanding as he said, "I'm giving you
permission Matteo.  I'm telling you to go for it."

   My heart turned over in my chest and a lump formed in my throat.  There
was no way in hell he could be talking about what I was thinking.  No way.
There was no fucking way.  Somehow, we had our wires crossed.

   I looked at him.  Met his blue eyes with my own and said, "Dad I have no
idea what you're talking about."

   He stared at me as he said, "Francesca."

   Just that.  Just her name.  Just the name that haunted me day and night.

   Our gaze was locked as I said, "What about her?"

   "You're in love with her."

   And just like that it was out.  Only I hadn't been the one to say it, my
dad had.  My secret, the secret that I had carried with me for almost five
years was out in the open.

   I didn't know what to do.  Of course I should deny it.  I should laugh
and ask him if he was having a stroke, but I didn't.  The weight of the
secret seemed for one moment to be lifted off my shoulders and to be out in
the open in the orange and purple light of day.

   Before I could say anything he shook his head.  "Don't deny it.  I know.
I've known for a few years now."

   I said the only thing left for me to say.  "I'm sorry."

   He nodded.  "I know you are.  I know."

   "I've tried dad, I really have.  I've tried so hard.  I never wanted
this!"

   "I know son.  I've watched you.  I've seen how hard you fought it. 
Sometimes I thought you would drive yourself mad with it."

   I laughed and it was a dry sound.  "Sometimes, I did too."

   He moved forward in his chair and turned his body towards me.  "I want
you to know Matteo...Matt, that I don't hold you responsible for this.  I
have watched you fight it with everything you've got in you, and you've
held up better than most men could.  It's my fault of course."

   I jerked at that.  "What?  What are you talking about?"

   He shook his head and looked out at the sun.  It was slipping into the
ocean and soon it would be dark.  "I told your mother that too.  This was
all my fault.  I put it in your blood."

   What the hell was he talking about?  "What?  Mom knew too?"

   He looked back at me and the few remaining rays of sun hit the whites of
his eyes.  "I'm not talking about you Matt.  I'm talking about Frankie and
her feelings for you."

   I could no longer watch my language.  "What the fuck are you talking
about dad?  Frankie doesn't have those kinds of feelings for me."

   He got up, not saying a word and went over to the wall.  He reached down
and plugged in the string lights that I had hanging all around the sides of
the walk.  Before coming back to his chair he opened the cooler and got out
two more beers.  Though I wasn't done with mine yet I took the new one when
he offered it.  I thought the way the conversation was headed that I was
probably going to need it.

   "See I figure it was from me that the two of you got it.  One of the
first reasons that I became interested in Bryon as a teenager was because
of his love affair with his sister."

   He twisted the cap off his beer and took a swig.  "At fifteen, when I
read that he loved his sister, something in me found that very erotic.  Of
course I didn't have a sister, but I had a very good imagination.  I could
imagine what it would be like to have a beautiful sister and fall in love
with her.  I began to read more and more Bryon.  The next thing I knew I
was in grad school getting my doctorate and I was still just as intrigued
by their relationship.  Did you know that I'm one of the top Byron scholars
in the world?"

   I nodded my head.  I had known that.  "But what you probably don't
know," he continued, "Is that I specialized for most of my career in
Byron's sexual liaisons.  Especially that of him and his sister Augusta."

   He took another drink before continuing.  "I read everything I could
find.  Every piece of paper in this word that is about Byron I've read it.
I was obsessed for years.  Obsessed.  I think you know a little something
about obsession don't you my boy?"

   I nodded at him.  He sighed.  "I am ashamed to say this, but I feel I
owe it to you to be truthful.  Once I met your mom I told her about my
obsession for Byron and his sister and a few times, just a few, we called
each other brother and sister during sex."

   A chill went up the back of my neck at that and I put a hand up to rub
it away.  Dad nodded his head.  "I know how that sounds and I'm so sorry
Matt.  I really am."

   I shook my head.  "Dad you don't think, you really can't believe that
your obsession with some long dead poet who fucked his sister, made me this
way?  You can't think that your obsession with Byron made me want to fuck
Frankie.  Can you?"

   Despite the grimace that flashed across his face when I said I wanted to
fuck my sister, he didn't hesitate to nod.  "Yes Matteo that is exactly
what I think.  I think that my desires, my deviant thoughts, traveled from
my brain to my sperm.  That my obsession became such a part of who I was
that it encoded in my DNA and traveled to you and then to your sister."

   I held up my hands and shook them in frustration.  "Dad you keep saying
Frankie.  That Frankie has it too, but she doesn't.  It's just me.  Just my
sickness.  I've never touched her, never told her, never even hinted to her
how I feel."

   He rocked his head a little to the side.  "Matteo do you really not
know?"

   "Know what?"

   He sat forward in his chair again and carefully placed his beer bottle
on the deck at his feet before looking back up at me.  "How she feels," he
finally said.

   "She doesn't feel anything for me that a sister shouldn't feel for her
brother," I said, but he was starting to make me doubt myself.

   "Matteo ever since she was little Frankie has been in love with you. 
From the time she was four until she was ten and your mom made her stop,
she would talk about how when she grew up she was going to marry you."

   "That was just talk," I said.  "Kids don't know any better, they all say
stuff like that."

   He nodded.  "That's what we thought too.  Until she started to become
obsessed with it.  When you went off to college she wanted to wear your old
clothes, to sleep in your bed, to study the same things that you had
studied.  We couldn't get her to sleep in her own room.  We would put her
in there and she would go to your room.  When we tried to make her go back
to her own bed she would scream and cry.  She would tell us that she had to
be close to you.  You were going to be her husband and she loved you."

   The shock to my heart was almost too much to bear.  I bent over in the
chair and put my head in my hands.  "Why didn't you ever tell me this?" I
asked.

   "How could we?  How could we tell our twenty-five year old son that his
baby sister was fixated on him?"

   I shook my head.  I didn't know and honestly I wasn't sure how I would
have reacted to that news.  He went on, "We thought it was a phase that she
would grow out of it, but she didn't.  So we took her to psychiatrist after
psychiatrist.  They all agreed that it was a misplaced Oedipus complex
brought about by your age difference and you leaving home.  They assured us
that it would go away, but it never did."

   I looked at him.  "Well obviously it did.  She doesn't feel that way
now."

   He didn't agree with me, he just sat staring at me.  "She has never
shown any signs that she feels that way about me."

   He got up and went down the stairs.  I thought about following him,
obviously something I said had upset him, but before I could go looking for
him he was back.  In his hand was a pink backpack.  "Here," he said and
made to hand me the bag.

   "What it is?" I asked.

   "Her diaries," he said.  "From about the age of ten until she left home
to go to college.  You take up the majority of them.  She loves you the
same way that you love her.  Only she's loved you that way for as long as
she's been alive."

   I took the bag from his hand but didn't open it.  What he was saying was
crazy.  The idea that Frankie, my baby sister, felt that way about me and
had for all this time and I never knew it, was crazy.

   "You don't believe me so read them.  See for yourself." He nodded
towards the bag in my hand.

   "No!  I won't read her diaries, they're private.  I can't believe you
read them!"

   He shook his head sadly.  "She only started keeping them because her
therapist told her to.  She just never stopped.  I went looking for them
when you called and told me about this place.  I knew I had to tell you how
she felt, but I wanted something concrete to show you."

   I dropped the bag as if the strap was burning me.  "Why are you telling
me this now?  I asked.  "Why tell me at all?  I'm happy now!  I fixed my
life, why isn't that enough for you?"

   I stood up and went across the deck to look out at the water.  For a
second I thought about jumping.  A few seconds and it would all be over. 
All of this pain and anger and frustration that I had felt for so long
would be over.

   Dad touched my back.  "Matt I want you to be happy more than anything in
the world, but you aren't and neither is she.  Don't you see that you did
all this for her?  She didn't like the life you were leading and she told
you that.  A month later you changed every aspect of your life.  But this
isn't who you are.  You aren't the kind of guy who likes fishing, boating
and drinking beer.  That's not who you are.  If you're not missing the city
already you soon will be.  It's who you are, who you've always been."

   I turned towards him and I was shouting as I asked him, "So what the
fuck do you expect me to do?  Why are you telling me this?"

   I looked down at him.  He had gotten shorter as he grew older.  His face
was now a good three inches below my own.  "Because," he said.  "I want you
to go tell her how you feel.  I want the two of you to admit how you feel
and to be happy."

   Shocked, I snorted at that.  "Dad do you realize what you're saying? 
She's my sister.  My biological sister.  We're your son and daughter."

   He nodded.  "I know that better than anyone Matteo, but it doesn't
matter.  I see that now.  What matters, what I want, is to see the two of
you happy before I die."

   "So you want to see us together dad?  You want to see your son and
daughter living together as a couple.  Pretending to be man and wife?"

   He shook his head.  "No.  Not pretending.  I want the two of you, when
you're ready, to get married.  To really be man and wife."

   "That's not possible dad.  Society won't let that happen."

   It was his turn to snort.  "Fuck society," he said.  "I want my kids to
be happy.  I don't care what others think about it."

   Shocked at his language I stared down at him.

   We didn't say anything else that night, instead we both went to bed.  I
know he slept because I could hear him snoring through the walls, but I
never did.  Instead I stayed up all night reading Frankie's diaries, one
after another, from the age of ten to the age of eighteen she had written
in them every night and my dad was right, they were all about me.

   Over and over again she proclaimed her love for me.  She talked as a
young girl about marrying me when she grew up and at least once a week she
talked about our lives before.  At first I didn't know what she mean but as
she grew up and her writing became more sophisticated I began to
understand. It was my sister's belief that we were soul mates and somehow
we had been mixed up in this life and given to the same parents.

   The clear-headed logical part of me saw that belief as an excuse that
she'd had to create to explain in her own mind her feelings for me.  But
the other part of me, the part of me that loved her as more than a sister,
found some relief in her reasons.  It was either that or my dad was right,
I decided.  Either we were star crossed soul mates sent to the wrong
parents or my dad's obsession with Lord Byron and his incestuous love for
his sister had become imbedded in his DNA and passed down to Frankie and I.

   It was her talk about sex, about her desire for me that almost drove me
into madness.  She recounted in detail her dreams and her sexual fantasies
about me.  Unable to help myself, I masturbated more than once while
reading her diaries.

   By morning I was a tumultuous mass of feelings.  Part of me wanted to do
as dad had instructed and fly to Connecticut and confront Frankie and the
other part of me wanted to stay put and pretend that none of this had
happened.  A little voice inside my head said that fear was the reason for
the second reaction.  What if she rejected me?  What if despite what she
had written she was disgusted by my feelings?  What then?  How could I live
with myself if she hated me?

   I took a shower, got dressed and went downstairs.  Dad was sitting at
the kitchen table with a cup of coffee in his hand.  "Well he asked?"

   "Dad, I have to ask this." He nodded at me to go ahead.

   "What if she does feel that way?  What then?"

   "What do you mean?" he asked.

   "How do you think you're going to feel looking at us and knowing that
we're a couple?  Knowing that your son and daughter sleep together, because
that will be a part of it, how will that make you feel?"

   He was silent for a moment as he looked down at his coffee cup. 
"Honestly?" he asked and I nodded.  "Relieved."

   I didn't understand and I said so.  "But Matteo you don't know what it's
been like for me.  To see my kids unhappy and to know that I have the key
to make them happy.  You don't have kids yet, but when you do you'll
understand that you will do whatever it takes to make them happy."

   I left him a few minutes later and went upstairs to change my clothes
and book an airline ticket online.  When I came back down an hour later he
was making himself breakfast.  "Will you stay here while I'm going?" I
asked.

   He nodded as he turned his bacon over.  "If you don't mind.  I like this
little house and I like looking out at the water.  Your mom would have
loved this place."

   I know.  That was the reason I had bought it.

   He hugged me and wished me luck when the cab came.  He had wanted to
take me to the airport but it was too far.  Besides I felt like the
mythical hero starting a quest.  This was something I needed to do on my
own.

   *

   I got to Connecticut about six that evening and as I drove through the
twilight towards my sister I felt sick with fear.  What if all of this was
a big mistake?  What if she had gotten over her childhood obsession with me
and when I told her that I loved her she rejected me?  What then?  I had
already been miserable, how would I deal with her rejection of me?

   I pulled up in front of her apartment building and sat for half an hour
staring at her window.  I knew she was home, I could see that her light was
on.  After telling myself over and over again that if she rejected me then
at least I would know and I could go on with the rest of my life, I finally
managed to get out of the car.

   I walked up the two flights of stairs slowly, my heart pounding in my
chest, my hands shaking.  When I got to her door it took almost ten minutes
before I could get up the nerve to knock.  Over my pounding heart I could
hear movement inside the apartment as she came closer to the door, but when
the door opened I was shocked.  It wasn't my sister who opened the door, it
was another girl.

   I think my mouth fell open and the girl laughed at me.  "Who are you?"
she asked in a flirty voice.

   I couldn't answer her, my brain which had been pumping on anxiety, had
crashed.  She giggled and turned to say over her shoulder, "Hey Frankie,
you've been holding out on me!"

   At first I couldn't see her, but I heard my sister say, as she came
towards us, "What are you talking about Carmen?"

   I looked up, over the other girls shoulder, and met my sister's blue
eyes.  "Oh my God Matt!" she squealed and pushed the other girl aside to
hug me.  "What are you doing here?  Look at you, you're so tan!"

   I didn't say anything.  I just soaked her up.  Her smell, her warmth,
her touch as she hugged me.  All of it was too much for my overworked
brain.

   "Come in," she said and grabbed my hand and led me to the living room.

   I heard her talking, telling the other girl I was her brother, but all I
could do, all I could see, was Frankie.  She was wearing a pair of white
shorts that showed her long tanned legs to perfection, and a blue t-shirt
with the college's name on it.  Her curly brown hair was pulled up in a
ponytail and her feet were bare, showing me that her toenails were painted
a soft, dusky pink.  She looked so young.  I wanted to fuck her more than
anything.  To rip the shorts from her, throw her down on the floor and bury
my cock deep inside of her.

   But I couldn't.  We weren't alone and even if we had been I didn't know
how she would have reacted to that.

   By the time we had made our way over to the couch and she had pushed me
down I had regained some of my mind.  I was able to talk and to answer her
friend's questions as well as pose a few of my own.

   Her friend-Carmen-was in one of my sister's classes with her and they
had hit it off.  Like Frankie, she was different.  She was a young Hispanic
woman from a working class family who was going to a top Ivy League
University.

   She was the first girl that my sister had ever been friends with, and
despite the subject that took up the majority of my mind, I was happy to
see that Frankie was doing so well.

   It made me realize that telling her how I felt would be selfish.  No
matter what she once may have thought or felt for me, she had built a life
that she was happy with.  There was no way I was going to take that away
from her.

   "Why are you here?  Is everything okay with Dad?" she asked, anxiety in
her voice.

   I smiled and nodded.  "Dad is fine.  Can't I just want to come and see
my baby sister?"

   Carmen made a noise at that and said, "That's so cute.  I wish my
brother loved me that much."

   No you don't, I thought.  No you don't.

   I was grateful for that Frankie didn't remark on the fact that she had
been in college for three years and I had never before been to see her. 
Part of me felt bad about that, the other part knew it had been
self-preservation.

   I did my best to act normal.  I laughed and joked with the girls and
when Carmen suggested ordering a pizza I was actually grateful that she
would be staying longer.  I didn't want to be alone with my baby sister
anymore because I knew then that telling Frankie was a mistake.  I didn't
know how, but I would find a way to be happy without her, and maybe one
day, if I was lucky, I could find a woman I loved as much as I loved her.

   The pizza came and we ate and laughed as they told me stories about
their professors and classes.  Sitting with them in that off-campus
apartment I felt a lot younger than my thirty-seven years.

   It was after Midnight when Carmen left and while Frankie walked her to
the door I sat and thought.  When Frankie came back into the room I looked
up at her and my heart turned over in my chest.  God, she was the most
beautiful woman that I had ever seen.

   "Do you want to take a shower before bed?" she asked and my heart
stuttered again.

   "What?"

   She smiled at me as I tried to get my mind out of the gutter.  "I just
know that you like to take a shower before bed.  I wanted to let you go
first so I don't hog all the hot water."

   I shook my head.  "Oh thanks, but I'm going to go to a hotel," I said
and stood quickly.

   She frowned.  "What?  No!  Stay with me.  I don't want you to go yet."

   She came across the room towards me and grabbed my hand.  "Please
Mattie? Stay with me."

   My heart thumped and my cock jumped at the touch of her hand on mine. 
Staying in the same place as her would be fucking agony, especially after
the things I had read in her diaries, but how could I ever tell her no?

   I quickly looked away and said, "I don't need a shower."

   "Really?" she asked.  "That's not like you.  You always take a shower
before bed."

   Uncomfortable with the fact that she knew so much about my habits I
pulled away from her and sat back down on the couch.  "I'll sleep here," I
said and toed my shoes off.

   Her eyebrows raised and she looked at me quizzically.  "Okay.  I'll get
you a pillow and blanket," she said before turning around and leaving the
room.

   She came back a few minutes later and handed me a blue blanket and a
pillow.  I tried not to wonder if they were from her bed.  I laid down on
my side, careful to keep my shirt down to hide my erection and closed my
eyes.

   "Goodnight Mattie," she said in a puzzled voice and I mumbled goodnight
back to her.

   She turned the lights off in the kitchen and living room, but she left
her bedroom door open and though I couldn't see into her room because of
the angle of the couch, I could see the light on.

   I heard clearly when she went into the bathroom to take a shower and it
was an agonizing ten minutes for me as I pictured her naked and wet.  My
cock, which had been rock hard since Carmen left, rose even higher.  It was
held down by my jeans, but just barely.  Had I unzipped them even a little
it would have popped out with force.

   I heard her finish her shower and a few minutes later I saw the light in
her room go off.  I thought I would lay awake all night, but surprisingly I
didn't.  I fell asleep and only woke when I felt a hand on my face.

   I have no idea what time it was, or how long I had been asleep, but it
was still dark out.  The curtains were open and the faint light from the
street lamps lit up the room a little.  I tried to focus as I turned my
head and saw that Frankie was kneeling on the floor next to the couch.  Her
hand was on my cheek.

   "Frankie what's wrong?" I asked in a sleep-roughened voice.

   "Are you mad at me Mattie?"

   I shook my head and the palm of her hand rubbed back and forth across
the stubble on my cheek.  "No.  Of course not.  Why would I be mad at you?"

   I could see her face, it was pale in the faint light.  "Because I said
those things to you at Christmas.  I didn't mean to hurt you."

   I frowned.  "You were right though.  I messed up.  Especially with
Lucy."

   "Do you miss her," she asked.

   I laughed.  "No.  Not at all.  I never loved her.  I just wanted...  I
shrugged, "Not to be alone."

   She moved her face closer to mine.  "I don't want to be alone anymore
either Mattie."

   And with that she kissed me.

   At first the kiss could almost be considered chaste, but then she opened
her mouth and when her tongue touched my lips I couldn't help myself, I
opened my mouth and kissed her back.  I had been dreaming of kissing her
for five years and it was everything that I'd thought it would be.

   She leaned in closer, and pressed her mouth harder to mine as her other
hand grabbed my t-shirt.  Jesus, her mouth was fucking perfection.  I
reached up and grabbed her face and sent my tongue out to invade her hot,
wet mouth.  With each thrust and dip of my tongue my cock grew harder and
my hips came off the couch of their own volition.  My cock wanted to do to
her pussy what my tongue was doing to her mouth.

   I groaned at the thought and the hand that was holding my t-shirt let go
and she reached to the back of my head and grabbed a handful of my hair.

   The top half of her body was pressed up against my shoulder as our
mouths met over and over again.  When I finally pulled my mouth away and
moved it down to her neck she groaned my name, "Matt..."

   That stopped me cold.  What the fuck was I doing?  She was my sister and
here I was fucking her mouth with my tongue.  I pulled away and she stuck
her nails into the back of my head, still holding a handful of my hair. 
"No Matt.  Don't stop.  Please don't stop." He voice sounded as desperate
as I felt and my cock jumped at it.

   "Stop Frankie," I said, trying to pull away, but she wouldn't let go of
my hair.

   "Please Matt, I need you so bad.  Please!"

   I looked at her in the faint light.  "Frankie you're my sister."

   She shook her head franticly while the hand in my hair tightened.  "I
don't care Matt.  I don't care.  I love you.  I love you so much.  Please
don't reject me.  Please."

   Her words and her voice drove me over the edge and I groaned as I
reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders.  I pulled her towards me and
she came willingly, finally letting go of my hair.

   When our mouths met this time it was with such force that our teeth
knocked against each other, but I didn't fucking care.  I sat up, still
holding her, still kissing her and she moved with me.  I pushed her down to
the couch on her back and came up over her.  She eagerly spread her legs
for me to lay between then and when I did...when my still covered cock
touched pushed against her, I almost came.  It felt so good, it felt so
right.  It felt like home.

   I kissed her over and over again, frantic for the taste of her.  Her
hands squeezed and clawed at my shoulders, but I barely noticed.  As I
fucked her mouth with mine I pushed my cock against her again and again. 
My body didn't want to wait any longer.  It wanted to claim what it had
long considered its property.

   Pulling my mouth from hers I kissed my way down her body, lifting my
weight from her only long enough to push her nightgown up.  I didn't take
it off, I didn't have the patience to wait that long, as I bent my head and
took her nipple into my mouth.  She screamed at that and bucked up against
me and I ground my cock into her fabric covered pussy.

   "Please Mattie," she said in a strangled voice, "I need you inside me
now."

   I kissed her again at that.  I didn't want her words to push me over the
edge.  I was too close as it was and I wanted this to be good for her.  I
wanted to erase any other men from her memory and her body.

   At that thought I sat back on my haunches and pulled off my t-shirt and
then stood quickly and took off my jeans.  I didn't take off my boxers
because I wasn't sure that I could stop myself from cumming if I touched
her with my bare skin.

   I moved to crawl back on the couch and on top of her when she said,
"No!"

   My heart skipped a beat.  Dear God please don't let her stop me now, I
thought, I might die.

   But she didn't stop me.  Instead she stood and pushed me down to the
couch.  When I was lying on my back she grabbed the hem of her nightgown
and pulled it over her head.  I stopped breathing.  Her body was just as
gorgeous and I'd thought it would be.  Her full, firm young breasts stood
up high and her nipples, already rock hard, held my attention, but not for
long.  She reached down and pushed her panties down her long, long, tanned
legs.

   My cock, already painful, jumped at the sight of her pussy and the soft
curls that covered it.  My mouth watered and despite wanting to be buried
deep within her, I also wanted to lock my mouth to her pussy and lick her
until she screamed.  Fuck, she was the most perfect thing that I had ever
seen.

   I stared at her in awe, fascinated by the golden brown curls that
covered the place that I had dreamed of being in for so long, as she bent
and grabbed the waistband of my boxers.  "Lift up Mattie," she said and I
did, never taking my eyes off her now slightly parted pussy lips.

   As she worked my boxers down my legs I reached out and trailed a finger
over the hair that covered her pussy.  It was so soft and curly and it
fascinated me, but not as much as what it hid.  Gently I sent my finger
between her lips and she gasped as I slowly slid it inside her.  She was so
hot and so fucking wet that I was lucky I didn't cum at the feel of her.

   She managed to get my boxers off in spite of my not helping and as she
moved to stand I sent out another finger and slid it inside her.  As she
stood looking down at me I reached out with my other hand and found her
clit.

   As we looked at each I fucked her pussy with my fingers and rubbed
softly across her clit.  She thrust her hips towards me, helping me to fuck
her with my fingers, and closed her eyes.  I watched her in awe and love as
she thrust faster and faster against my fingers.  "Mattie..." she said, my
name a long, low groan, "Mattie..." and with that she came.

   I watched her as the waves flowed through her, watched as her long,
young, tanned muscles contracted and pulsed.  Felt it as her pussy opened
even wider to me and watched as her chest flushed and her breasts rose even
higher as her nipples tightened.

   When it was over she opened her eyes and looked down at me.  She pulled
away and before I knew what she was doing she threw her leg across me,
grabbed my cock, and mounted me.

   Oh God...the feel of her tight, hot pussy as it sank on me was the best
thing I had ever felt in my life.  I moaned with it, never taking my eyes
from her face and when I was buried all the way inside her, when her pussy
was flush with my stomach, chills broke out all over my skin.

   I clutched her leg and as I did I smelled her juices on my fingers.  I
brought my hand up to my mouth and opened it.  I stuck both fingers, the
fingers that had been buried deep in her, in my mouth and sucked eagerly at
her juices.  It was her turn to groan as she watched me.

   I licked my fingers clean, intent on not missing a single drop of her,
as she watched.  And as she watched me lick her juices off my fingers she
moved up and down on my cock, fucking me.

   When I had cleaned my fingers and they no longer tasted of her I took
them from my mouth and her mouth was there to replace them.  "I want to
taste myself on you," she said and kissed me.

   I laid there, out of my mind in ecstasy, as my sister fucked my mouth
with her tongue and ground her pussy down on my cock, making circles with
her hips.

   My baby sister was fucking with me everything she had.

   When she stopped kissing me and sat up I reached up to cup her beautiful
tits.  Her nipples were a light peach color, and my hips thrust up even
harder when I realized that they matched, almost exactly, her peach panties
that I had stolen.

   She looked down at me and because it was growing light outside I could
now see her face clearly.  Our eyes met and she said, "I love you Matt. 
I've always loved you."

   And with that, I came.  I came harder than I had ever cum in my life. 
And to my surprise, when my cock exploded inside her and my hot cum hit her
pussy walls, she came with me.  Together we rode the waves of pleasure.

   When it was over, when the last tremors had left us, she let her body
fall softly against me and as her breasts pressed against my chest, with my
now softening cock still inside her, I rubbed her back over and over again.

   Later, maybe an hour or two later, I woke to her mouth on my cock.  I
raised my head and saw that she was kneeling by the couch, still naked, and
was sucking my cock.  I groaned with the feel of it and with the sight. 
More than once over the past five years I had imagined her sexy mouth on me
and now here I was experiencing it.  I watched her as she licked the tip
and ran her tongue around the crown before taking me into her mouth.

   She looked up at me and with her hand pulled my cock from her mouth. 
"Am I doing okay Mattie?" she asked in a soft voice.

   I nodded, unable to form the words.  God, yes.  She was perfection
itself.

   She smiled and sent her tongue out to lick me.  "I've never done this
before," she whispered and I felt my cock grow harder in her hand.

   She bent her head again and licked the entire shaft up and down before
looking up at me again.  "But I dreamed of doing this to you," she said and
I couldn't help but thrust my hips up towards her.

   *

   The rest of the day and the next was spent fucking each other and taking
turns using our mouths on each other.  I ate her pussy out more times than
I can remember.  I was like a starving man.  Once I'd had a taste I just
couldn't get enough.  And she reciprocated by learning what I liked when it
came to blow jobs.

   In between rounds we talked.  It seemed like we never stopped talking. I
told her everything.  About stealing her panties, using her anal plug and
her vibrators, about fucking women who looked like her and about my
conversation with Dad and my reading her diaries.

   Surprisingly she wasn't shocked.  She laughed at some of the things I
said and was turned on by others.  One time, as I fucked her ass slow and
easy, she made me tell her again and again how I had fucked my own ass with
her anal plug and she made me promise that I would let her use it on me
when we went to DC.

   We fucked so much that I became raw and I worried about her developing
an infection, so finally we calmed down.  We didn't stop, that really
wasn't possible, but we slowed down.  And once we were able to talk,
without fucking while we were doing it, we began to talk about the future.
At least on that we were both on the same page.

   We didn't know how, but we wanted to be together, and not just to fuck
either.  We wanted to build a life together.  What we had was more than
physical desire.  I loved her and she loved me.  We wanted to be able to
show that love openly in the world.

   After a week of talking...and fucking, she flew home to North Carolina
with me.  When we pulled up at my house dad came out to meet us.  Frankie,
like me, was hesitant and afraid how he would react.  I thought it was
perfectly obvious that we were fucking, you could practically smell it on
us, but he didn't bat an eye.  He hugged us both and as we talked, he made
us believe that he really was okay with it.

   That first night Frankie said she would stay in the spare room, but Dad
said that was crazy.  We were a couple now.  He had to get used to it
sooner or later.  So together we went up to bed, in my room.

   Luckily Dad's room was on the opposite side of the house so I didn't
feel like he would overhear us.  There was no way in hell that I could have
Frankie in my bed and not fuck her.

   Later, after she had fucked me until I saw stars and had stuck a finger
up my ass, she lay with her head on my chest and her gorgeous legs wrapped
around me, and asked me a question that shocked me.  "Mattie?"

   "Hmmm?  I said, on the point of sleep.

   "Do you think it turns Dad on to think of us fucking?"

   I jerked at that.  What the hell was she talking about?

   "What?" I asked in a shocked voice.

   She moved back a little and looked down at me.  "I just wonder.  He told
you about his obsession with Byron and his sister, and that he and mom
called each other brother and sister a few times during sex, so I was just
thinking that maybe he didn't have such a problem with us because he's
secretly excited by what we're doing."

   I looked at her.  I didn't want to think about it.  I shrugged my
shoulders.  "I don't know Frankie and honestly, I don't care.  I'm just
glad that we don't have to hide it from him." And with that I flipped her
to her back and surged into her tight pussy.

   It was like coming home.

   *

   That was a little over nine years ago.

   I gave the house and the business to Dad and moved to Connecticut to be
with Frankie while she finished her last year of college.  It was harder in
New Haven, because I had gone to school there as well, to hide that I was
her brother, but somehow we managed.  I rented a house for us and while she
went to school I stayed home and began to play the stock market online.  I
was as good at it as I had been at investment banking and I enjoyed it.  By
the end of the year I had doubled my money.

   We got married at a little chapel in North Carolina.  Money, which I had
plenty of, made getting Frankie a fake birth certificate easy.  With her
using our mom's maiden name we married.  We've never encountered any
problems with it though I know that really it doesn't make sense, her using
a fake name invalidated the marriage certificate, but to the world it was a
legal marriage.  And it felt real enough to us.  I was her husband and
finally she was my wife.

   Frankie took a year off after college to think about what she wanted to
do and that year turned into two when she got pregnant with our son Luca.
When he was six months old she decided she wanted her doctorate in English
Literature so she applied to Cambridge and Oxford.

   My dad lived to see our second son George born.  He was named after Lord
Byron, our private family joke, and Frankie graduate from Cambridge with
her doctorate in English Lit, thankfully though nothing to do with Byron,
before he passed away.

   He went peacefully.  He was sitting in a deck chair with a bottle of
beer in one hand and a book of poetry in the other, staring out at the sky,
when he had a heart attack.  The doctors said it was over in a second and
he probably didn't know what hit him.

   We stayed in London, it's easy here, there's no one to run into, no one
who knows that we are more than husband and wife, plus I love the hum of a
big city.

   I work in investment banking again, there's really no better city in the
world for it than London, but I own my own firm and make my own hours.  Not
for me anymore the hundred hour work weeks.  I spend my days happy and
busy, but I'm always ready at five o'clock to rush home to my wife and
sons.

   Frankie is a professor at a college in London.  I won't tell you which
one, just to protect her.  Our boys are happy and yes, healthy.  A lot of
the stuff you hear about inbreeding is myths and lies, bullshit created to
keep you from fucking your sister.  In my case it didn't work.

   To be honest I don't even think of that, of the fact that she's my
sister, anymore.  To me she's just my wife.  The love of my life.  My soul
mate.

   We don't call each other brother and sister during sex either, that
doesn't turn us on.  I never wanted to fuck her because she was my sister,
I wanted to fuck her in spite of it.

   We're happy.

   Really, truly, happy.

   How many people do you know that can say that?

   Can you?

   So before you judge us, stop and ask yourself-is what we're doing really
that wrong?  Who are we hurting by loving each other?  Is Frankie fucked up
in the head?  Am I?

   I don't think so.  I was fucked up when she wasn't mine.  Now...now I've
never felt better.  I have two sons who I adore and a wife and best friend
who I love more than life itself.  What's so wrong with that?


   For pics visit ---->> https://bit.ly/2ReHUJI