Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 Title:Only When We Dance


Summary: Sexy sister needs partner for performance.


Keywords:inc,fic,erotic,hot,sex







   Three weeks prior to the end of season recital performance for my
sister's dance studio, my sister caught her fiancÃ(C) cheating.  A
week-long attempt as reconciliation ensued, led primarily by my forgiving
and wonderful sister.  It ended in her fiancÃ(C)e's sudden departure not
just from their apartment, but from town altogether.

   I had not been privy to any of this until our Aunt called me and blabbed
about it.  She was hunting for juicy details, but I had none to give.  I
texted my sister to say how sorry I was.

   The next day, my sister called me to ask if I might perform in her
recital in place of Nick, her ex-fiancÃ(C)e. 

   I did not want to, so I questioned her decisions.  "Okay.  You're the
teacher.  Why are you dancing?"

   "It's kind of expected around here.  The kids love it, and the parents
and grandparents want to see just how good the instructor really is," she
explained.  "Plus, it builds my classes.  People from the community come.
Word of mouth spreads." 

   "Why not just do a solo?"

   "The programs are already printed."

   "Okay.  So, who cares?  Do a solo anyway."

   "The music is for a partner.  It wouldn't make sense."

   "Okay.  Change the music."

   Silence followed -"a very familiar, very miserable silence. 

   I knew I had made her cry. 

   A few seconds elapsed, and then I heard her ultra-soprano weeping voice.
"If you don't want to help me, just say so, but please quit trying to tell
me what to do.  I need a partner, and you're a beautiful dancer.  That's
it."

   "Okay.  Okay.  When?"

   Sniffles.

   "Really?" she asked, now sounding like a five-year-old just offered a
free lollipop.

   "I don't know, Gia.  When?"

   "The 17th at 6:30."

   "That a Friday?"

   "Yeah."

   I didn't want to, but I could.  I'd be home for a three-week summer
break before I had to head back to campus for summer conditioning.  I could
do it.  I should do it, but I was mad about it.  I knew it would upset her
when I grumbled, "Okay, I'll do it, for fuck's fuckin' fuck."

   Silence.  Sniffles.

   I should not have said it.  I tried to bypass the ugliness by quickly
asking her a question.  "I'm coming back tomorrow.  When's our first
practice?"

   "No!" she cried.  "Only do it if you want to!"

   "I'm going to do it, Gia.  When?"

   "Do you want to or not?"

   "I want to help you."

   "Then, why did you say 'fucking fuck-fuck'?"

   "I'm sorry, okay?  I shouldn't have said it."

   Sniffles.  Silence.  "Okay," she muttered.  "My last class ends at nine.
Can you come after that?"

   "Yes," I said.  "Wait.  Gia, will I have to wear one of those tight-ass,
flaming pirate-ice skater dance outfits?"

   This description astonished and silenced Gia, and from frustrated tears,
she suddenly burst out in laughter.  I had hit upon a truth.

   Even so, the answer was yes, that's exactly what I'd be wearing.

   ***

   I was not a dancer anymore; I was a college football player. 

   To earn a starting position for the next season, my collegiate life had
been downright monastic since January.  I spent my days in class, lifting,
studying, and doing conditioning drills.  There was no time for a
girlfriend or parties.  In fact, the last time I made out with a girl was
before finals last December.  I wanted that starting position, even if it
meant blue balls.

   I loved football, but I had a sister and two parents who loved dance. 
So, much of my childhood was spent in dance studios.  Gia was right; I had
the skills to fill in for her ex. 

   When I walked into the studio at 9:15 pm, Gia called out for me.  "I'm
in the office!"

   "Changing!" I replied.  I slipped out of my trainers in the vestibule
area, put on dance shoes, and then I walked through the door onto the shiny
wood floor in my sweatpants and a tank top. 

   Gia emerged from the office like a cool summer breeze.  Smiling, she
skipped to me and jumped into my arms.  "I'm so glad you're back!"

   Holding her was like carrying a toddler.  Her body was slight and
weightless. 

   I set her down and got a look at her.

   She wore a simple white leotard and nothing but canvas shoes.  Her hair
was drawn back to a high ponytail.  I didn't understand it -"the big break
up was just a few days old -"but she looked fresh and joyful.

   My sister is a rare beauty.  Olive-skinned, brown-haired, but with
stunning aquamarine eyes.  She never took a bad picture.  Even when she
made a ridiculous face, she looked gorgeous.

   Always leggy and boney as a kid, when she hit her teens, she grew taller
and stronger, but she never quite developed curves until after college. 
She had small, perky breasts and only the tiniest hint of feminine hips. 
She looked, simply put, like a professional dancer -"a delighted
professional dancer.

   "You -"you look great," I said, surprising myself.  She really did.

   "I do?"

   "Yeah." 

   "Thank you!" She looked at my chest and arms.  "You're a lot bigger."

   "Conditioning," I responded.  "Hey, you okay?"

   "Mm-hmm," she said, nodding.  "I'm past it.  Now, you're here.  Come on,
let me show you what we're doing."

   ***

   While Gia stretched on the dance floor, I watched a video on her tablet
of her and her ex rehearsing.  It was a contemporary medley performance. 

   The first section was a romp of athletic and technical moves,
alternating between the partners.  The music transitioned into a slow love
song, and the dancers came together.

   I glanced at Gia. 

   On the screen, my sister and her ex, bodies press together, executed
supports and close partner steps with alarming sensuality. 

   I turned to her.  "Hey, uh..."

   "What's up?"

   "This is a pretty intimate dance, Gia."

   "You've done it all before."

   "Okay.  So have you, but not with each other.  Won't people think it's
inappropriate?" I turned back to the video.  "Look at this!"

   Gia and her partner caressed each other's faces lovingly.  He spun her
around, clutched her waist, and drew her back against his front.  They
moved across the floor, pressed together this way.  Then, he lifted her
above his head, and held her, spinning, with one hand on her butt.

   Beside me, Gia looked at the screen.  She said, "It's fine.  Brothers
and sisters dance like this all the time.  Do you know how many Olympic ice
dancers and pairs are brother-sister teams?"

   "Okay.  I suppose, but..."

   "Come on.  Let's get started."

   ***

   An hour later, I had the rudiments of the first part memorized; we just
needed to get our timing right. 

   She called it quits, and I walked past the office to the bathroom. 

   I had been in her studio before.  She'd been running it for two years,
but when I walked into the bathroom, I looked around, surprised.  It was a
small space, barely fitting a pedestal sink, a small toilet, and a stall
shower.  There were clothes strewn about the floor, the sink was a mess of
toiletries, multiple towels hung on the shower door.

   When I finished, I walked slowly past the storage room across from her
office, peeking in the door.  Plastic bins with clothes.  Mattress on the
floor.

   "Gia, are you fucking living here?"

   She hesitated.  "Yes."

   "What about the apartment?"

   Silence.

   Oh, shit.

   She didn't break down, but her voice definitely quavered when she said,
"I can't afford it by myself.  Nick...he left on the 31st, and I couldn't
pay this month's rent."

   "Okay.  So, you get a loan from Mom and Dad."

   "I'm an adult."

   "Yeah.  In a jam.  You ask for help."

   "I can't afford it without Nick.  The studio doesn't make enough."

   "Okay.  Move-in back home.  Don't live at your fucking job."

   This sent her over.  She burst into tears, sitting crosslegged on the
shiny wood floor. 

   Not only was my sister strikingly beautiful, but when she cried, it was
irresistibly heartrending.  I swear, my sister could stand on a city block
with an empty mug in her hand, cry for eight hours a day, 52 weeks a year,
and make a six-figure salary, easy.  Her ugly cry was most women's wedding
picture day.

   I went over to her and knelt in front of her.  "I'm sorry, Gia.  I
didn't mean to..." I didn't finish.

   Sobbing, she uncrossed her legs and laid back on the floor with her
hands cupped over her heart.  She wept, "He hurt me.  He hurt me so much."

   Any other girl and I would have been completely inarticulate at a moment
like this, but with her, finding the words seemed easy.  I said, "I know he
did.  He did.  You deserve only good things, Gia.  I'm so sorry." 

   She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and haltingly whispered, "Thank
you for saying that."

   Then, I glanced at her pussy.

   I wasn't consciously looking for it.  I was looking at her -"seeing her
-"and my eyes just happened to fall between her legs for an instant. 

   She was on her back, on the floor, and her legs were spread wide with
slightly bent knees.  I was kneeling between those long legs.  Then, yes, I
glanced at my sister's crotch.

   And I couldn't drag my eyes away.  If I had turned my head completely
sideways, my irises would have remained stock still.  If I had tried to
cover my face with my hands, my fingers would have risen up already divided
so that my view could remain unbroken.

   She wasn't naked, of course.  She was in that white leotard.  I could
not see any pubic hairs; the crotch of her leotard was not ripped or out of
place so as to reveal any of the precious flesh underneath.

   There were three reasons why I could not look away from my sister's
pussy.

   First, by laying back, she had inadvertently drawn tight the front of
her leotard, revealing the cleft of her labia -"the camel toe, as my
football buddies would have said.  Hell, as I would have said had it been
some other woman.  Seeing it, my first thought was, "Oh, there's my
sister's pussy." Nothing more.

   Second, with her privates somewhat on display, her position on the floor
became a kind of double image in my mind.  On the one hand, it was a
heartbreaking posture.  On the other, I now saw, it was charged with
sexuality.  It was, my second thoughts indicated, how she probably looked
when she awaited oral sex from a partner.

   Third, and this may be a thing only heterosexual males -"perhaps not all
of them -"can understand, was the absolute perfection of her blank. 

   I think of it as the stirring in the guts when I see, for example, a
woman in panties or a bikini, but really, any clothes that hug a woman's
crotch can work.  One sees no hideous bulge in the front, only flat
emptiness.  The suit narrows toward the crotch and runs straight down,
tucking neatly between her legs.  There's nothing there in front.  That
emptiness or absence -"that blank -"is thrilling, and it is a small, but
exciting part of a woman's sexual attractiveness. 

   Having lived through to nineteen, I can say that, in the same way I
discern a great ass or awesome tits, I can spot a nice blank.  And, I
should add, spotting one does not require visible "camel toe." That would
just be frosting on the cake.

   Gia's blank mesmerized me.  It was perfect.  It was compact.  Her body
was fit and tight, and the shape of everything down there -"how her legs
melded into her ass, how her inner thigh curved into her crotch -"struck me
by its sexual efficiency and allure. 

   That, I thought, is where my hand is going to be tomorrow night when we
begin working on the second section of the dance medley when I lift her up
in the air over my head. 

   Gia sighed.

   It awoke me.  I had no idea how long I had been gazing, but it was long
enough, I suddenly realized, for me to feel the onset of an erection.  It
was automatic; I hadn't touched a girl in six months. 

   At the moment, I didn't care.  I returned my eyes to Gia's pussy.  I
began to remember several of my girlfriends, comparing Gia's body to each
one as I fixated. 

   There was no comparison.  Gia's was...

   Her legs closed before me.

   I blinked and glanced at her face.

   She had seen me staring. 

   I turned away.

   She cleared her throat, wiped her eyes, and asked me to help her up.

   My new erection was a problem.  Some are more tenuous than others and
can diminish in thirty seconds.  Others can take minutes to abate.  This
one raged, and I knew it would linger.  It appallingly distended the front
of my sweatpants.  My tank top would be no help in covering it; it fit me
snugly and barely tugged down to the waistband of my sweats.  My knee
jutted out, hiding it from her, but the moment I rose...

   Gia's hands reached up.  She was waiting for me.

   Maybe she won't look.  I stood, took her hands, and quickly lifted
her. 

   She flew up and landed on her feet gracefully.  I instantly turned away.

   "Is something the matter?" she asked.

   "No," I snapped, regretting the tone immediately after I'd used it.  I
cleared my throat and more gently said, "No, I'm fine."

   "Hey," she said, approaching me.  "Don't be mad."

   "I'm not, Gia."

   "I really appreciate your help," she offered.

   "I know."

   "Will you look at me?" she asked.

   I turned my head and nothing else. 

   She put her hand on my shoulder and tugged.

   I spun toward her, resigned to the imminent shame.

   She studied my face; I was spared for the moment.

   I said, "It's cool, Gia.  We're going to be great."

   She smiled and threw her arms around me.  As our bodies came together, I
pivoted myself so my engorged erection missed her body.  My hands came up
to reciprocate the hug just a bit late.

   She noticed and drew back, glancing down.

   I looked, too, and I didn't know whether to laugh, curse, or be ashamed.
Shame seemed appropriate, but this boner was so monstrous that I choked
back a guffaw when I saw it.  It was hard enough that the waistband of my
sweatpants and underwear had been drawn away from my stomach.  I saw my
pubic hairs; she probably could, too.

   Gia's hands fell away from me. 

   Her eyes found mine. 

   I shrugged and said, "Sorry?" Then, a short, coughing burst of laughter
erupted out of me.

   Gia's face alternated between confusion and amusement.  She looked at my
erection again, and it seemed she settled on finding the situation
humorous. "Is that...why are you hard?"

   Her question awakened my shame.  I could not possibly admit to my own
sister that her body so aroused me.  "Fuck, I -"I'm sorry, Gia." I turned
away, shaking my head.

   Despite my embarrassment, the erection remained achingly turgid.  I
glanced at it and saw, again, just how ridiculous I looked. 

   "Don't be embarrassed," Gia urged.  "It's nothing." 

   When I glanced back at her, Gia's eyes grew wide.  She waved off her
previous words, saying, "I didn't mean it's nothing like its small.  It's
not.  It's really big." She pinched her eyes closed, shaking her head. 
"What I mean is it's no big deal -"it doesn't matter." 

   Now she was mortified.

   I stifled a grin.  "I know what you meant, Gia.  Geez."

   Her lower lip trembled, and she coughed.  Her hand covered her mouth. 
Then, she tried to say, "I'm so sorry," but she was laughing too hard.

   I smiled and chuckled a bit.

   "Were you staring at my crotch before?" she asked through fits and
convulsions.

   I nodded, and a new bout of cackling ensued for both of us.

   "And is that what...is that why...?" she stammered.

   Nodding again, I erupted in more laughter.  "I'm sorry, Gia."

   Gia still laughed, but in a diminished way.  "And I said you had a big
dick," she remarked.  By the time she completed the thought, it didn't seem
like true laughter anymore.  It seemed feigned. 

   The mirth in the studio slowly evaporated; discomfort replaced it.

   I cleared my throat.  "Hey, I'm going to roll.  You need anything?"

   "Oh.  No, I should be fine.  Thanks, though."

   I walked toward the door into the vestibule area, erection bouncing
along.  I stopped and turned.  "Yeah, what time tomorrow?"

   She glanced at the tent in my pants.  "If you're free, you can come by
anytime in the morning.  Just text me before you come.  Classes start at
two.  If not, then same time tomorrow night.  Nine o'clock."

   "I'll swing by in the morning.  See you, Gia."

   "Bye."

   ***

   I really had nothing better to do, so I texted Gia outside the door or
her studio at eight the next morning.  It took her several minutes before
she unlocked the door to let me in.

   I brought her favorite coffee and a danish.  When she grinned, I knew
the boner incident could be forgotten.

   "Give me fifteen minutes to get ready?"

   I nodded, changing my shoes. 

   I practiced the first section on my own a few times.  Gia came out
twenty-five minutes later in a light grey leotard, and after she stretched
out -"which I did not watch even a little -"we rehearsed it together.  She
seemed satisfied, so she began leading me in a walkthrough of the second
-"romantic -"portion of the medley.

   During a performance walkthrough, dancers are not expected to adopt
their dance persona.  It is about learning the order or the routine -"where
are you, when are you there, and what are you doing -"for both partners. 
Once practicing and rehearsing begins, a qualified dancer puts away the
self and becomes the persona.

   Persona is part of dance theory.  The idea is that when one dances, he
or she needs to become some "other." What that "other" is depends on the
dance.  Maybe you're a snowflake.  Maybe you're a warrior.  It all depends
on the music and the dance.  So, for those who subscribe to Persona Theory,
dancing becomes a bit like acting.  To put on the absolute best
performance, the dancer must become the persona.

   In this case, my persona was Gia's lover--that was my take on it, at
least.  I'm sure it was Gia's, too.  Some dance professor might have said,
"Oh, no.  You're not lovers.  You're butterflies" or some other crazy
horseshit.  The simple answer was lovers.  In the first part of the medley,
we're showing off for one another.  In the second, we fall in love.  The
third and final section is the expression of our newfound love. 

   The music during the second section, the falling in love part, was a
really old love song from the 1980s called "Take My Breath Away." Not the
whole thing, but a two-minute excerpt.  The sound of this song was super
retro -"totally an 80's love song -"but I had to admit it was smooth.  It
was sexy. 

   I could tell Gia loved it.  After the walkthrough, she played it for me
the first time.  We sat on the dance floor and listened.  She mouthed some
of the lyrics.  She tilted her head back and swayed.  When it ended, she
watched me expectantly -"with a kind of "didn't you just love it" look in
her eyes.

   I gave her a thumbs up.

   We began rehearsing.  I had to look into Gia's eyes like Romeo into
Juliet's at the balcony.  Vice-versa for her.  It is nearly impossible to
describe how it feels when eyes like Gia's gaze into yours so passionately
-"big, aquamarine, and fully capable of raising or crushing a man's dreams.
I forgot my part of the routine several times because those eyes so
entrapped me.

   The more challenging part, however, was keeping her body off mine.

   In theory, the routine called for close contact almost throughout.  We
had to move together, and where we went, our bodies needed to be in contact
-"her chest against mine or her back to my front.  When we parted, it was
always with a sliding, lingering touch -"across my chest and outstretched
arm or down my leg.  Her hands would be all over my body, and mine on hers.

   In practice, I did my absolute best to keep us apart when, finally, she
stopped me.

   "What are you doing?" she demanded.

   "Just -"you know -"the inside partner step."

   "But, you're pushing me.  Let me come to you.  Why are you pushing?"

   I hesitated.

   She went on.  "You did the same thing on the cross-body lead.  Is
something wrong?"

   She had me.  I explained, "I'm just trying to keep a natural space
between us."

   Waving that off, she said, "If I weren't your sister, would you be
pushing?"

   She had me again.  I shrugged and said, "No."

   "It's an intimate dance.  The natural distance is zero.  Do it right,"
she said flatly.

   She reset the music, and we started again.  Our bodies mashed together.
I felt her soft skin and the taut muscles underneath.  A thin layer of
perspiration infused her skin.  I smelled her face, neck, and hair.  My
hands slid up and down her hips; they clutched her waist.  Her butt rubbed
against my pelvis and slid down my thigh. 

   Her hands groped my stomach, chest, and shoulders.  They slid down my
back.  They caressed my face. 

   We skipped the tricky parts -"the advanced supports and all of the
lifts, leaving those to the end because they would need a fair amount of
practice.  In the end, we ran through the routine four times, and by the
end of the fourth, Gia genuinely smiled.

   She enjoyed herself.  This was fun for her.

   I was energized, and I played my part, but it was a struggle.  I could
not relax as she could.  My brain kept asking for barriers and walls -"for
separation.  My body, however, loved the intimacy.  Hell, wanted more.  The
push and pull were stressful.

   Especially at the end.

   The final movement as the love song ends included a relatively complex
support that we actually practiced, called the Reverse Fyodorov.  Gia is in
front of me, bodies touching.  Both of our right legs are extended to the
side, parallel to each other, and we lean left.  My left leg remains
planted, knee bent, but her left leg goes over the top of mine and wraps
around my waist behind my butt.  I help carry the weight of her left leg
with my left hand curled under her thigh.  My right arm wraps around her
torso, just under her breasts.  Her right arm grasps mine at the forearm,
holding me close.  Gia's left arm rises up and wraps around the back of my
head as if drawing me in for a kiss.  Her head is thrown back as if waiting
for that kiss. 

   So, for the nearly eight seconds we hold this position, her tits rest on
my arm, my hand grasps her inner thigh, the soft cheek of Gia's ass presses
against my dick, and our lips are an inch apart, and she pulls my face
towards hers. 

   And, according to my persona, I'm in love with this woman.

   And we're both breathing hard, staring into one another's eyes.

   And, since I once again brandished an erection, it is clearer to say
that we stared into one another's eyes while my hard cock rested against
Gia's ass.

   She must have felt its onset while we practiced the movement.  When you
do a movement often enough with a partner, especially a support or lift,
the tiniest of changes stand out.  So, even when I was semi-soft, she
knew. 

   Plus, she had to have seen, when we broke to reset and try again, how
visibly agitated I was by the situation.  Before our second to last
attempt, I had become utterly rigid down there.  I turned away from Gia,
reached into my underwear and drew the erection vertical, hoping to pin the
fucker to my tummy by the waistband. 

   This left the head of my cock exposed, so I untied the string of my
pants, hiked them to my navel, and retied them tightly around my waist to
cover it up.  When I finished, I looked up.

   Mirrors.  Everything I had done had been visible to Gia in the mirrors.
She may have been watching me, for the first movement I caught when I
glanced into the mirrors was Gia's eyes darting down toward the floor.

   "Ready?" she asked.

   We did it again, and we did it so well, that Gia smiled under me.  My
erection was like a bedpost against her ass.  My sister, chest heaving,
kissed me on the lips and smiled. 

   It was a peck, a happy little peck.

   Still holding her, I smiled, but it was a struggle because I wanted her.
At that moment, she wasn't my sister.  She was the sexiest, most beautiful
woman I had ever seen, and she was in my arms, letting my body press
against hers.

   I was going to kiss her, and I didn't plan on a peck.  Reason fought
against my desires.  My mind wanted to scream.  I let her go.

   "The first time you get it right...," she began, waiting on my response.

   "You do it again to make it tight," I finished.

   We reset for the conclusion, and when we came together, one of us
lowered.  It may have been me; I was thinking about it.  I wanted to.  But,
I didn't think that I actually did it.  It had to have been her, but I was
uncertain. 

   Whatever the case, the change put my arm across Gia's breasts; the
extended fingers of my right hand completely covered her left tit.  It also
put my left hand much closer to the crotch of her leotard.  In fact, my
index and middle fingers were on the fabric. 

   Our faces were further apart, so I bent toward her, and she drew herself
higher by pulling on the back of my head. 

   Gia was not smiling this time; neither was I.  Her face looked flushed,
her eyes eager.  Those were her lovemaking eyes; I knew it in my heart.

   I kissed her, and I held it.  For the briefest of moments, the tips of
our tongues touched.

   The bell on the front door chimed.  Someone had arrived.

   We broke apart without even giving each other a last look.  She marched
into her office.  I sat on the floor, tugging my shirt over my erection. 

   The inside of her office looked out onto the dance floor through a
one-way mirror.  I looked into the mirror, wondering what she might be
thinking and doing in there.

   A woman cautiously opened the door onto the dance floor.  When she saw
me, she asked if I were the owner.  Said she was thinking of enrolling her
daughter in dance classes and happened to see the lights on in the studio.

   Before I could direct her to the office, Gia came out with her
business-like smile.

   New customer, guaranteed.

   No one -"not even women -"can resist her eyes.

   Erection gone, I left while they chatted about class options.

   ***

   I came back at 9:00 pm.  I don't think Gia expected me, but I came.

   We didn't practice; we sat against the walls on opposite sides of the
dance floor.

   "I got carried away by my persona," I said, "I'm sorry."

   "I did, too," she admitted.

   Silence.  She seemed deep in thought.

   I asked, "Apart from that lapse, didn't we do pretty well?"

   "Yes, I think we were amazing."

   More silence.

   Then, she rose, walked over, and sat beside me.  "Long day.  Sorry, if I
stink."

   "You don't stink, Gia.  Your b.o.  is other women's Chanel."

   She smirked, saying, "Yeah, right." Then, she sat up a bit, donning her
professional face, and asked, "What about your erections?"

   A flood erupted from me.  Twice while I spoke, I sensed Gia attempting
to interject, but I would not be stopped.  I had to explain myself.  "I'm
sorry, Gia.  I can't help it.  I've got to act like your boyfriend, and so
there's that.  Add to that I haven't even touched a girl in half a year and
so -"fuck! -"you're looking at me with these eyes that just -"they'd drive
any man wild.  Then, there's your body.  I know you're my sister and all,
but it doesn't matter when our skin is pressed together and I'm touching
you.  I'm just a fucking man, for fuck's sake.  There's nothing I can do,
you know?"

   She absorbed this for a moment, and then said, "I meant is there
something you can do to stop them from happening.  Something before you
come to practice, maybe?" 

   "You mean...?" I asked.

   She nodded.  "Yes.  Get it out of your system."

   "Oh."

   "Will it work?" she asked.  "I've never had to deal with anything like
this before.  We can't have this happened at the recital."

   "No.  Fuck, no," I agreed.  "It won't."

   "I mean, has this happened to you before -"during dance?"

   "No."

   "But, you've done most of the movements before -"with partners."

   "Yes."

   "I've seen you do them, and the girls were pretty.  You never had an
unattractive partner, did you?"

   "No," I said.

   "Am I just...your type or something?"

   "I don't know, Gia.  Fuck." How the hell do I respond to that question
from my own sister?

   She seemed to understand my frustration.  "It doesn't matter.  Forget I
asked.  What about what we talked about before?  What about getting it out
of your system?"

   This is what we had come to: my sister was asking me to jerk off before
we practiced dance so that I wouldn't get a hard-on dancing with her.

   I said, "Okay, that's what I'll do." Then, I left.

   ***

   I didn't do it, though.  Not because I didn't mean what I told her.  Not
because I actually wanted to pop a woody when we danced.  The real reason
was that, even alone in my old bedroom, I was so embarrassed about the
situation that I couldn't get hard, even when I used porn as a distraction.

   So, I needed to try something else.  I had a jockstrap and a cup in my
dresser from back in high school.  They were tight; I had put on
twenty-five pounds of muscle over the last few years.  But, I thought, the
tighter the better.  This will keep everything contained.

   I wore a fresh set of sweatpants over them and left for the studio at
nine that morning.

   Gia let me in.  She said, "I'm really sorry about yesterday."

   "Forget it."

   "Let me say this," she explained.  "I thought about it last night.  I
thought about what if it were me being told by my brother the I should
masturbate before dance.  How would I feel?" 

   I waited.

   She went on.  "Embarrassed and ashamed is how.  I'm sorry about that,
and I want you to know that I think of it as a compliment to me.  It's just
saying that I am an attractive woman, and I should feel grateful for that
gift.  And, it's saying that you're not my kid brother anymore, but a man
in every way, and I need to acknowledge that and be happy for you."

   "Okay.  Thanks, Gia."

   We stretched and got ready.  I noticed something in the mirror, glancing
at her. 

   Gia was wearing a pink leotard today, but I could not see the line of
any panties underneath.  Maybe, I thought, she had some skimpier ones
-"ones made out of a thinner material.  I forgot about it and finished my
stretching.

   Then, Gia asked, "Did you do it?  What we talked about?"

   I sighed.  "I couldn't."

   She didn't respond.

   I said, "But, look, I'm wearing a jock -"you know, the ones with the
cups in them? -"and that should keep everything bottled up.  So, there's
the solution."

   "Oh," she said.  "Okay, great." She didn't sound all that pleased.  She
walked to the center and invited me to join.  "Ready?"

   I went to her.

   We practiced the first part over three times, and we were getting really
good.  Then, we moved to the second part, and my problems got worse because
I was almost 100% certain that Gia was not wearing any panties.  The
outline of her pussy -"the camel toe -"became more and more apparent the
longer we went.

   So, it seemed like a good idea at the time -"the cup and supporter.

   It wasn't.

   The cup is designed to contain the whole package when it's soft.  It has
nowhere near the capacity for an erection.  Between iterations, I moved
away and adjusted the cup, trying to fit things back in there.  It came to
a point where Gia asked if everything was alright.

   "Yeah," I said, but they weren't.

   On our third run-through of the romantic section, my growing boner slid
out of the cup and became wedged between my body and the cup's lip
-"extremely uncomfortable.  I had to call a stop.

   "Just take it off," she said.

   I went to the bathroom.  With no underwear, I came back sporting what
looked like a baton under my sweatpants.

   "It is what it is," Gia said.  "Let's go."

   I cannot lie.  Everything felt even better and more exciting without
underwear, with nothing except the cotton of those sweatpants separating my
erection from her body.

   Gia looked visibly agitated when we finished with the support position.
I was practically gasping.  Our lips were close, and she looked almost
shocked when she looked me in the eyes and uttered, "It's really hard."

   "I'm sorry."

   She shook her head.  "It's okay."

   We separated and Gia excused herself for the bathroom with odd haste.

   I took a break, sitting on the floor and hoping the time apart might
help my erection fade.

   Gia returned wearing a new black leotard. 

   I raised an eyebrow.

   "This one is more comfortable," she said.

   When I stood, I found that I barely had even half of an erection, and I
felt the urge to piss.  I excused myself.

   Gia glanced at my crotch as I passed her, looking, I supposed, to see if
my arousal had finally flagged.

   In the bathroom, a pink shadow on the floor of the shower stall beside
me caught my attention.  Was that her leotard?  I wondered. 

   When I flushed the toilet, I opened the glass door.  Looking, I realized
that, in fact, it was the leotard she'd been wearing.  I thought about her
not wearing underwear, and my heart started pounding in my chest. 

   I reached down and picked it up.  Finding the shoulders, I unfurled the
skimpy thing and glanced at the crotch.  There was something...I brought
the crotch into my hands.

   The thin stretch of fabric that covered Gia's vagina was a darker shade
of pink.  I rubbed it between my fingers -"it was wet.

   I brought it to my nose, tentatively sniffing once.  Then, I muttered,
"Oh, fuck." Instantly, I pressed the fabric to my nostrils and inhaled the
fragrance.  Again, I did it.

   The crotch of Gia's leotard was saturated with her sexual essence, and
Gia's pussy smelled like hardcore sex.  Without thinking, I flipped the
fabric inside out and dragged my tongue over the wetness.  I pressed my
lips against it and sucked. 

   It yielded up only a hint of Gia's taste.  I wanted more, but even so, I
leaned against the wall of the bathroom and let her taste linger in my
mouth.  I swallowed, and it felt a bit like alcohol in that my body grew
warm.  I muttered, "Holy shit."

   I tossed the leotard back in the shower.  Then, I washed my hands and
walked out of the bathroom, newly restored erection jutting.  I didn't care
about it anymore. 

   She saw it, and she looked up at me.

   "Pink leotard," I declared.

   Gia's face went red.

   I continued, "You weren't wearing underwear.  You were just as turned on
as I was.  You kissed me back yesterday, and you used your tongue, too."

   She shook her head.  "It's not like that.  I..."

   "Gia, come on," I argued.  "Don't leave me alone like this.  Don't."

   She sagged to the floor.

   I sat beside her.

   "What are we going to do?" she asked.

   "I don't know."

   "We can't...do anything about it, can we?"

   "Probably not," I said.  "But, what if we did?"

   She looked at me.  "Mom and Dad, Grandma and Grandpa Dee, Grandma Jo,
our aunts and uncles and cousins...we can't do that to them."

   "No, we can't, but what if they didn't know?"

   She looked at me and said, "You really want me?" -"

   I nodded.  "You me?"

   "Yes," she replied.  Then, Gia looked at the tent in my pants and asked,
"Show it to me?  Just a peek."

   I pulled the waistband from my stomach, and Gia bent her head over,
staring down at it.

   She said, "I've wanted to see it since the first time."

   I let the waistband close.  Most guys wouldn't, but I figured my cock
was more precious the more scarce.

   "So, you found the leotards?" she asked.

   "It seemed strange -"you changing during the middle of our practice. 
Why didn't you wear underwear?"

   "Everything feels sexier without it," she said.

   "You were really wet."

   "I know, and we were going to start doing our lifts.  I didn't want you
to find out," she explained.  Then, she asked, "Did you feel them?"

   I nodded.  "Don't freak out, but I smelled them, too.  And, once I did,
I had to lick them."

   "You did?" she asked, sounding, for the second time since I'd come home
from school, like a naive little girl.  "You liked it?"

   "Yeah."

   "But, I'm your sister.  You liked how your sister's vagina smells and
tastes?"

   I pointed to my boner.

   A smile appeared and vanished on Gia's face.  Several seconds of silence
passed.  Then, she asked, "Why couldn't you masturbate this morning before
you came here?"

   I sighed.  "I was so embarrassed about last night I couldn't get the
mood."

   "But, you've got it now."

   I nodded.  "You, too?"

   "Yes," she said, and she looked thoughtful.

   "What?"

   "I was just thinking."

   "What?"

   She turned to me.  "Wait."

   She rose and left through the door to the vestibule.  Returning a few
seconds later, she said, "I locked the door." She ran back and sat across
from me.  "Okay, here's what: we know we shouldn't really do anything,
yes?"

   "Yeah?"

   "And you -"well -"you had trouble this morning, but now, you seem ready
to do it, yes?"

   "Yeah."

   "So, what if we take care of ourselves here and now?"

   I couldn't think of anything to say.

   "And, when we're finished, we haven't done anything wrong, and maybe
we'll be ready to keep practicing."

   "Do you want to?"

   "The doors are locked."

   We waited, staring at each other.  I could see her excitement.

   She said, "You start."

   I hesitated.  "Gia, it would be nice if...if I had some inspiration." I
gestured to the leotard.

   "Oh.  Okay."

   I pulled off my shoes, and then I slipped out of my pants, kicking them
to the side.

   Gia slid the steps from her leotard and pulled her arms through.  She
pulled it down over her chest, revealing a white sports bra. 

   I grabbed my penis.

   She pulled the bra over her head, revealing two of the tiniest,
loveliest olive tits I had ever seen.

   "Oh, shit, Gia.  They're perfect."

   I stroked my cock.

   She watched it for a few moments, and then she pulled off her shoes. 
Grinning, she began to slide the leotard down her hips.  Her eyes never
left my erection as she slipped the leotard down her legs and kicked them
away.

   When she spread her legs, my jaw fell open.

   There were no panties, and Gia's pussy was faultlessly shorn, neither
hair nor stubble in view.  The slit shined with her lubricant.  She opened
herself with her left hand; the middle finger of her right dipped inside.

   "Ooh, shit.  This is so fucking hot," she moaned, alternately rubbing
and fingering herself. 

   I loved her fixation on my cock.  Her eyes never left it except to close
when she felt something particularly heavenly. 

   "Gia," I muttered, "I want every part of you."

   She fingered herself and said, "I want your cock inside me."

   My heart leaped.  My cock throbbed in my fist.

   Gia continued.  "I want it in my mouth so I can taste it."

   I groaned.

   "I want it in my pussy," she said, panting.

   "Oh, shit.  Oh, fuck," I grunted.

   "I want it in my..."

   I interrupted her.  "I'm coming, Gia."

   She moaned, fingering herself and watching sperm jettison and spill from
my cock.  Her fingers became a blur on her pussy.  Her head sagged and she
gasped for breath.  Finally, she collapsed on her back, her legs twisted
together and her chest heaved as she let forth a dozen or so huge soundless
breaths, each accompanied by a faint whimper.

   Her hand fell away and she rolled on her side, laughing.

   Then, I did.

   We didn't say a word.

   A minute passed this way, then I mopped up the dance floor.  We cleaned
ourselves, dressed, and then finished practicing, both smiling the whole
time.

   ***

   Gia was waiting for me in the vestibule area that night at nine-fifteen.
She locked the door behind me and practically skipped into the dance floor.
My heart raced with excitement.

   I grabbed her hand and pulled her to me.  Her eyes shined; her smile
glowed.  I kissed her, and then asked, "I can give my sister a kiss, can't
I?"

   She said, "I think kisses are okay."

   We kissed again, and I felt her excitement and passion through her lips.
Her fingers dragged up and down my back.  I opened her lips and tasted her
tongue with mine.  She gave hers to me.  My hands slid from her hips to her
waist and back.

   We came apart, and she searched my eyes.  "Did you like it?" she asked.

   "Yeah," I said, my chest rising and falling.

   "Me, too." Gia grinned and leaned toward me, looking down.  She hooked
her finger under the waistband of my pants and drew it back.  She peeked at
my growing erection and smiled at me. 

   "Do you want to do it again?" I asked.

   "Yes!" she cried, letting my pants snap back.  "Come on." She led me
into the makeshift bedroom in what used to be the supply space.

   Gia had cleaned the space since I had last seen it.  Her double mattress
lay on the floor, covered with red pillows and blankets, and a white
comforter.  It smelled like perfume.

   "Let me see it?" she asked.

   I took off my pants and underwear.  "You," I said.

   She slid out of her white leotard and laid on the bed, gesturing for me
to join.  I climbed in beside her.  Gia spread her legs, letting one rest
against my bare leg.  I ran my fingertips along her smooth skin there.

   "Mmm, that's nice," she moaned.  She turned to me, saying, "Kiss me
while you do it?"

   "Okay."

   I grabbed myself and began stroking.

   She watched.  Satisfied, she turned back to me and our lips and tongues
came together.

   She moaned into my mouth.

   "Are you doing it?" I broke away to ask.

   Eyes closed in pleasure, she nodded, uttering, "Nn-hnn."

   "Let me taste your fingers?"

   Her eyes opened.  A moment later, I saw her hand moving toward me.  I
took it.  Seeing two that glistened, I brought them to my mouth and sucked
on them. 

   "Do you like it?"

   "A lot."

   "I do, too," she responded.  Her hand disappeared between her legs for a
moment, then it returned.  Gia sucked on the same two fingers.  When she
withdrew them, she sighed, "Kiss me again."

   Our lips rejoined.  She moaned, and I felt the warmth of her breath
cascading from her nose on my upper lip.

   Pulling apart, she glanced down at my efforts.  "Is that pre-cum?"

   I looked.  "Yeah."

   "Give it to me," she said.

   I wiped the bead from the tip onto the back of my index finger. 
Bringing it to her, I watched her lips close around the little drop and the
rest on my finger.  Her tongue caressed the digit.  I heard her swallow.

   When she pulled the fingers out, I kissed her.  The taste of pre-cum
seemed to energize her, and our lips and tongues had never been more
aggressive. 

   She broke the kiss.  "I'm getting close," she huffed.

   "Yeah," I agreed. 

   A vision sprouted in my mind, and the desire that grew from it urged me
to make it real. 

   I sat up, and before Gia could react, I maneuvered my body between her
legs in one fluid movement.  Leaning toward her, I held my weight with one
arm.  I stroked myself with the other.

   Gia looked down and saw my erection.  She looked up at me and smiled.

   When I thrust between her legs, rocking her body, she jaw fell open, and
she gasped with astonished joy.

   I thrust again, and she cried out.

   Again, and I felt the feverish pace of her fingers every time I stroked.

   She moaned that she was cumming. 

   I thrust again.  Her little breasts bounced. 

   She cried, "Keep fucking me like that!"

   I rammed my hips into her, and she hit her climax.  The barely audible
whimpers surrounded by huge, gasping breaths commenced.  Fuck, it was sexy.

   "Me, too," I groaned.

   She urged me to cum on her, and I did.  I grunted and slung volleys of
semen on her soft little tummy.

   My supporting arm was exhausted, I switched to the other one, holding
myself over her.

   Gia put her hands on my shoulders and drew me closer.  She whispered,
"Let go."

   I let my body come to hers and we kissed.  It was a tender and loving
kiss, ending with a tiny and very wet smack.

   "It was beautiful," she whispered in my ear. 

   A few minutes later, we stepped into the little stall shower together.
My cum was all over both of our stomachs.  We cleaned and rinsed one
another, easily rationalizing that washing, too, was technically a safe act
between brother and sister.

   Things became less certain not long after we started when I grew hard in
her hands as she washed my penis.  Gia was on her knees in front of me. 
She looked up at me, unsure.

   I shrugged.

   Her head nuzzled between my legs.  She kissed my balls and the side of
my penis.  Then, she stood.

   I was my turn.

   Seeing the naked splendor of Gia's body was one thing.  Seeing it
glistening with hot water and rubbing suds over every inch is something
vastly more erotic. 

   It wasn't just the shape of her body -"the perky little mounds on her
chest, the shapeliness of her legs, the shorn, compact beauty of her blank,
or even the heart-stopping curves of her little dancer's ass -"it was the
texture of her flesh.  Her skin was supple as a warm blanket, and that
alone might have enthralled any man.  Underneath that smooth, velvety layer
of skin, however, was the feminine muscle tone and rigidity of an athlete.

   She is perfection, I thought, running a soapy pink poof over her butt.

   Other men might have raised the question of her breasts: weren't they
too small?

   Put those men in this shower stall, I thought.  Let them work suds into
those tits and across those little brown nipples with their bare hands. 
See what they say then.

   Large breasts would have given Gia a more sexualized figure, but they
also might have robbed her of what made her such an incredibly talented
dancer -"her light, slender grace and her ability to project youthful
exuberance.  Take that away, and she's someone else.

   She turned toward me in the shower, letting the stream rinse her back.
Fuck, she was beautiful, and my reaction upon seeing her face was like pure
instinct: I kissed her.  That she kissed me back with equal desire, it
seemed, made my heart soar.
When our lips drew apart, those aquamarine eyes found mine, and the
vulnerability in them was agonizing when she said that sleeping together

might be okay, too and when she asked me to stay with her that night.

   I nodded.

   Drying off, I texted home to let them know I wouldn't be back that
night. Then, I brushed and dried her long, brown hair as she sat, telling
me about the recital and the young dancers of her studio who made her so
proud.

   My chest pounded with nervous excitement when we climbed into bed
together, neither of us wearing a thing.  Gia shut off her lamp and drew
near me.  We kissed for a long, long time.  When my erection grew to a
point where it rode up her tummy, she stopped.

   She whispered, "I know it's against our rules, but I need to do
something."

   "Okay."

   "Just remember: it's what I want.  You never did anything wrong."

   Confused, I was about to ask what she meant, but I stopped myself.  Gia
gently tossed the sheets and blankets toward our feet.  Then, she edged
under me, downwards. 

   Further down. 

   I drew a breath.

   She kissed my stomach. 

   Down her body slid.  "Don't stop me," she whispered, "I need this."

   Down, and she stopped.

   I waited -"stunned and in absolute denial.  This isn't what I think.  It
couldn't possibly...

   I gasped in astonishment.

   Without the slightest touch of her hands, Gia had taken the front bulb
of my penis into her mouth.  Then, I felt her hands.  One settled on my
ass, the other slid between my hip and the mattress, finding purchase on
the other cheek.  I felt her clutch me there.  She pulled -"not to draw my
pelvis to her, but to tow her lips further down my erection.

   I cursed.  It felt so good, it hurt.

   Her head began to undulate, and I felt her soft lips lazily slide back
and forth.  Her mouth was warm and wet.  She went deep, taking more than
half of my length, and then she held.  Her tongue reached, pressed against
the underside, and undulated there as if she were trying to loosen or coax
something free.  When her tongue stopped, I felt strong suction, and I
heard her throat's wet gulp. 

   I said, "Oh, fuck, Gia." Then, her lips began to slide along the shaft
again.  Her hands never left my ass, and often, I felt her caress me there
as if it were a part of my body that excited her. 

   On the second time she held me deep and worked her tongue against me,
Gia swallowed, drew off, and whispered, "I can taste your pre-cum now." 

   The blowjob resumed, with Gia alternating between slow, gentle bobbing
and that deep, hungry suction.

   I did not last long, and when I warned her, she dove deep.

   I warned her again, more urgently because the tugging undulations of her
tongue were ushering me so rapidly toward a climax.

   Still, she ignored me.  I waited for her to pull off, pinching my eyes
shut.  I knew in a moment, my cock would feel the fresh air, and then her
hands would grasp the shaft to complete the act.  I did everything in my
power to stave off the rush.

   Hurry, Gia!  my mind hollered.

   I grunted her name.

   Then, finally, her lips slid back toward the tip.

   But, she didn't pull off.  Instead, she held the bulb tightly in her
lips. 

   Nothing could be stopped.  I gasped, feeling my cock throb and vent
semen into her mouth.  She didn't pull off.  My mind romped at the
miraculous ecstasy of the sensation, at the wonder of Gia's gift to me. 

   The thoughts raced across my mind: Cuming in her mouth.  I'm coming in
Gia's mouth.  She's letting me. 

   The pulses ebbed.  Gia hummed, and a moment later, her lips slipped off.
I groaned, and in the silence that followed, I heard a throaty gulp and a
soft sigh.

   "Gia," I whispered in a kind of daze.  She had somehow bled me to a
comfortable stupor.  I didn't want to move.

   "Hmm?" she responded, gently kissing my penis.  Now here.  Now there. 
And again.  She kissed my testicles, once for each, and then she came up to
me.  She kissed my cheek and whispered, "Sleep."

   She rubbed my tummy and chest.  I slept.

   ***

   She was on her stomach when I woke, one of her hands still rested on my
chest.  I rolled on my side, facing her.

   She seemed to be sleeping comfortably.  She looked peaceful, her face so
beautifully serene that I smiled. 

   Dreaming about dance, I thought.

   Gia told me once that her favorite dreams always involved her dancing. 

   Under the blanket, I touched her back.  Her skin felt so warm and smooth
that I left my hand there, letting in caress in light, sweeping figure
eights.  Moving lower, my fingertips followed the downward slope of her
lower back.  I brought my hand back and traced a wider set of loops.  This
time, my fingers found the place where the shape of her body curved back
upward.

   Gia's beautiful little ass, I thought.

   I let my hand trace the entire curve, from its highest crest and down to
her thigh. 

   I swallowed the lump in my throat.

   Putting my palm squarely on one of the cheeks, I began lightly massaging
it.  I slid to the other side and did the same.

   Gia sighed.

   I slid the side of my index finger along the crevasse where the two
bulbous halves met, riding that line from where it began at the small of
her back, over the great curve, and down between her legs, stopping just
before her vagina.  My finger slid back and forth, back and forth, dipping
slightly more each time until it was between those turgid globes. 

   Gia spread her legs.

   On the next pass, I slid my finger down until it passed through the
slit, picking up wetness.  I switched to my middle finger.  When it was
sufficiently lubricated by her fluids, I pushed it inside her.  The heat,
the wetness, and the supple flesh were enough to fire images in my mind
-"scenarios of fucking Gia, thoughts of how good her body would feel.

   I fucked her with my finger, thrusting it inside her as I would have my
cock.  When she moaned, I added my ring finger and continued.

   Gia arched her back, putting that little ass in the air.  I watched the
blanket rise.  I watched her body absorb the thrusts.

   She must have found an angle she liked.  It was but a minute or so
before she vented her orgasm in those beautiful airy breaths. 

   The room smelled like sex -"female sex.  My erection was like a column
of marble.

   Gia dozed off; I laid on my back, stared at the pipes in the unfinished
ceiling, and imagined fucking my sister. 

   When I began thinking about Mom and Dad, I got up and showered.  Then, I
left to pick up a cup of coffee and a sweet roll for Gia -"her favorite
breakfast.

   She waited for me in the vestibule.

   Taking her breakfast, she thanked me, and we walked into the office. 
She sat behind the desk; I sat across in one of the two chairs.

   "We have to talk about this."

   "I know," I said.

   "It's gone too far, too fast."

   "I know."

   "I don't feel in control anymore."

   "I know."

   "I mean," she said, and then she leaned forward and whispered, "I should
not have a belly full of my brother's semen.  And you -"you should not know
what my orgasm sounds like or what my vagina feels like or -"or any of it."

   "I know -"listen."

   She waited.

   I gathered my thoughts and began.  "Look.  You're right -"about all of
it.  So, I've been thinking: we stop, cold.  We focus on the dance.  We
stay busy.  When we're together, we're dancing."

   She sat back in her chair, considering the idea.

   I went on.  "I've got the first section down, just need to tighten it
up. The second, well, I know the second even better than the first.  We
just have to work the last few lifts and supports.  But, the third?  I
hardly know it, and it's the hardest.  I say we hit the gas and just pound
out the third section.  We do the supports, the lifts, the jumps, the
throws, all of it."

   She nodded.

   I finished.  "No more of the other stuff.  Nothing.  We focus on the
dance."

   "We dance?"

   "Dance."

   "Okay!" She said, springing to her feet, and we danced all morning and
through lunch until her first class began arriving just before two in the
afternoon.

   ***

   After dinner with Mom and Dad, I texted Gia to ask if I should come at
the usual evening time.

   "Yes!" was the immediate response.

   Two minutes later: "Wait.  No.  Best not.  Sorry!"

   A minutes after that: "What do you think?"

   I wrote, "Do you want to dance or not?"

   She wrote, "Tomorrow morning's better.  Let's go then."

   "OK."

   I went to a movie with some friends.  Afterward, one of the guys offered
for everyone to hang out in his basement and play cards.

   I thought about Gia and told the fellas I might be back later.  It was
after ten in the evening when I drove past the strip mall where her dance
studio resided. 

   Her car was there.  The vestibule lights were off, but I could see a
glow from the dance floor through a small window on the door. 

   I pulled in and texted her.  "Waiting outside your door."

   She came out.  Sighing, she said, "You shouldn't have come."

   "I'm not here to screw up our new plan.  What are you doing right now?"

   "Watching film."

   "Your dancers?  Rehearsing?"

   "Yes."

   "Go get dressed, shut down the place, and come out with me.  Bunch of
fellas are playing cards at -"you remember Hank Munny?"

   "Yes," she said with hesitation.

   "His parents' place.  In the basement.  Totally safe for us.  Just fun."

   Gia turned her head very slightly, raised one eyebrow, and asked, "You
think I want to play cards with your old high school friends?"

   I shrugged.  "Yeah.  Come on.  It'll be fun."

   "I'm twenty-four," she explained.  "I'm not going to hang out in
someone's parents' basement."

   "Gia, there's only going to be three of us.  With you, we have a
foursome, and we can play Spades."

   She thought about it.

   "These guys all know you.  They love you.  You were like a Goddess to
them -"a senior when we were all in eighth grade.  Please, come."

   "Okay.  Hang on." She left to change.

   I texted my friend to let them know Gia was coming with me, and that we
now had four players.

   "Cool," Hank wrote back.

   But, I think I know what they were really saying and doing over there in
Hank's basement: High fives, "Oh, fuck, yes!" and "Dude, she is so hot!"

   I suppose I was a rare brother.  I actually liked it that my friends all
thought my sister was super hot.  Bringing Gia would win me some
forgiveness points for how much I would be gone over the summer because of
conditioning.

   She had a great time.  Gia loves being the center of attention, and the
boys fawned over her.  The only problem was how much cologne and air
freshener had been used in anticipation of our arrival.  I could taste that
shit in the air.

   She and Hank partnered once, and on one deal they bid the Big Moe and
got it, thanks to Gia's savvy.  They won the game.

   She and my other friend, Ben, won the next game.

   We finished with a few games of Pitch at Gia's insistence, and I had
forgotten how much fun that one can be. 

   I watched my friends as we played.  They told stories, joked, and teased
each other and me, always looking for Gia's reaction, always trying to
one-up the other in order to get a bigger laugh from my sister.  They were
in love.

   At one in the morning, Gia told them we needed to go, and the boys
protested but understood.  She gave them both a hug and kiss on the cheek.
It was gratuitous flirting, and she knew it.  She also probably knew it
would put smiles on their faces for the next day or so.  When I escorted
her out, I felt like the luckiest guy in town. 

   When I parked at the studio, we talked about the night.  She thanked me,
and then we sat side by side in silence.

   Finally, I said, "If you don't want to be alone..."

   "We won't do anything," she interrupted.  "Just sleep."

   "Yes."

   "No touching."

   "Nope."

   "You're my brother.  I'm your sister.  We love each other, but not that
way."

   "Not that way."

   "It's like camping.  Families do that together."

   "Exactly."

   "And when we wake up, you're already here for practice."

   "Makes it easy."

   She looked at me, and there was desperation in her eyes.  She said, "I
just don't want to be alone."

   "Let's go." 

   Gia locked the door behind us, and she explained the order of bedtime
events to me on the way in.

   I was to use the bathroom first to change.

   "I don't have pajamas on me."

   "You can wear your underwear."

   Having sorted out that part, she went on.  Once ready for bed, I would
climb in on the right side.  She would then use the bathroom to change and
get ready.  When she came back, she would turn out the lights and get in on
the left.  She would turn out the night light.  Then, if we wanted, we
could talk.  No kiss goodnight.  No touching.

   "Gia, it's not a king-size bed."

   "You know what I mean.  Accidental doesn't matter."

   "Okay."

   We followed her routine.  I slid under the covers and waited for her in
my boxer-briefs.  I knew we were not going to do anything.  Still, my heart
drummed in my chest.  My mouth felt dry.  Nerves fluttered in my belly. 

   I caught movement at the door.  Her hand searched for and switched off
the overhead lights.

   "Close your eyes," I heard her say.

   "Okay." I heard her enter.

   I waited for a beat, and then I risked a glimpse.

   With the night light still on, I saw her.  White body-hugging tank top.
Navy bikini-style panties.  Nothing else. 

   I felt the covers rise.  I heard her slide in beside me, and when the
covers fell, her fragrance enveloped me in floral beauty.

   "You can open your eyes."

   I did, but I didn't turn towards her until she spun away and reached for
the night light.  The act exposed her ass in those panties, and I bit my
lips at the sight.

   The room went black and I turned away.

   "Goodnight, Gia."

   "Goodnight."

   I rolled away from her to my right side.  I felt her move.  I wasn't
certain, but it seemed she rolled to face me.

   Should I turn around?  Didn't she say she didn't want to be alone?  Was
turning my back on her basically the same thing?  Isolating her?

   I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.  My eyes began to
adjust to the low light.  I peeked to my left and made out her form.  I
turned and looked.

   Her back was to me.

   I spun my body over to face her.  I preferred my left side, anyhow. 

   A few minutes elapsed. 

   She wasn't sleeping.  Her breathing hadn't fallen into that rhythm.

   Neither had mine.

   She pivoted, coming to rest on her back.  I heard her sigh.

   Nothing even remotely sexual had happened, but I had an erection like a
barre.

   "Are you asleep?" she whispered.

   "No,"

   "I'm getting hot.  Care if I throw off the covers?"

   "No."

   She did, and the ambient light in the room was enough to see the shades
of light and dark on her body -"where her tank top ended, where her panties
began, where they ended and her legs began.  I could see the tiny mounds of
her breasts.

   My erection, hidden under black boxer-style briefs as I lay on my side,
was well camouflaged in the darkness.

   I watched Gia's chest rise and fall.  She didn't look at me.  A minute
ticked away.

   Suddenly, she rolled and turned the night light on.  "I can't sleep,"
she muttered.

   I threw my right hand over my pelvis.

   She resettled facing me.  "You, too?" she asked.

   I nodded.

   She glanced down at my right hand.  A smirk came and went like a passing
cloud.  "Is it because you're horny?"

   I said, "Being in bed with you -"even with these rules -"is too
exciting."

   She smiled for a moment, and then she looked at my hand and said, "You
don't have to cover yourself."

   I drew my hand away, resting it on my hip.

   She looked long and hard at it, and then she asked, "Is it uncomfortable
being in your underwear?"

   "I'll be okay."

   "It looks like it's straining."

   I glanced down.  The fabric where the head of my cock pushed was so taut
I could see its skin between the knittings.

   "I don't like seeing it that way," she said.  "Here." Gia's left hand
reached out, and she lifted the waistband over my cock.  I spread my legs
and raised my hip.  She tugged them down my legs, and I kicked them off. 
"Better?" -" -"

   "Yeah."

   She sighed, alternating her glances between my eyes and my penis. 
Finally, she asked, "If we could, what would you do?"

   Stick it in your pussy and fuck your brains out, I thought without an
instant's hesitation, but I knew better than to say that.  "I would throw
out our rules," I said.  "Then, I would kiss you."

   Gia smiled.

   "You?" I asked.  "What would you do?"

   "Everything," she said.  "What's the sexiest moment of your life?"

   "Is now included?"

   "No."

   I said, "In the shower with you yesterday."

   "Without me, I mean."

   I hesitated.

   She assured me it wouldn't make her jealous.

   I knew my answer.  "I caught a pass during an away game last fall..."

   She interrupted, "Your sexiest moment is during a football game?"

   "Will you let me finish, for fuck's fucking fuck?"

   It was too late, we both started laughing really hard. 

   When it finally passed, I explained.  "So, I catch this pass and went
out of bounds on the opponent's sideline, just short of the end zone.  I
almost run into the cheerleaders.  Anyways, one of them -"the cheerleaders,
I mean -"this blonde, she and I catch one another's eye, and she smiles. 
Damn, it's beautiful.  I feel great -"we were losing, and I feel great,
instantly.  Made my day.  So, it's a night game and our flight out isn't
'till the next morning, and a bunch of us guys go to campus that night to
party.  We meet up with fellas from the other team, and they take us to
sorority row.  We go into one of the houses -"I can't remember which one
-"and I see this girl, same one, the cheerleader.  She recognizes me, and
she smiles."

   I stopped there.

   Gia said, "And then...?"

   "A gentleman never tells," I announced.

   She laughed.  "But tell me."

   I waited.

   She turned up her eyebrows.  "You're not going to tell me?"

   Those eyes could get the nuclear codes from the President.  "Alright,
alright," I said, "but, there's not much to tell.  I already gave you the
best part."

   "What?"

   "Yeah.  I already told you the sexiest part."

   "You mean the sex wasn't the sexiest part?"

   "It wasn't," I said.

   Gia threw up a time-out sign.  "Wait a second, wait a second.  You are
the first guy I have ever asked that question who didn't describe the
actual sex.  I mean, for all of them, the sex was the moment.  Every one."

   "I guess I'm different." 

   She shook her head in astonishment.  "I guess so."

   "So, tell me yours."

   She grinned.  "When we kissed in the Reverse Fyodorov." She was
referring to the advanced support position ending the second section of our
dance.

   "Me not included," I insisted.

   She sighed.  "The one I always used to tell happened in Freshman Chem
Lab."

   "Chem Lab!?"

   She guffawed and nodded.  "You know how in the first hour, you're in a
classroom observing the experiment before you head out to the stations and
do it yourself?"

   "Yeah."

   "We had those desks -"tables, really -"that sat two chairs.  Black and
about, I don't know, four feet wide."

   "I know the ones."

   "The seating chart put me next to this guy who never said a word to me.
Totally ignored me, really.  He was a tall red-head with short hair.  Super
hairy arms.  Always smelled really good and he had dark brown eyes, almost
black.  He was beautiful."

   I nodded.

   "But, he was the first guy who never gave me the time of day.  It
annoyed me.  Anyways, toward the end of the semester, I put my hand on his
leg -"on his jeans right on his thigh, you know.  I don't know why.  I just
did.  I knew no one could see what I was doing under those fat tables.  I
just wanted to see what he would do."

   "What did he do?"

   "Nothing.  He didn't flinch; he didn't look at me.  He just let my hand
stay."

   "Huh."

   "Well, the next lab day came, and I had given up on him.  But, all of a
sudden, he put his hand on my leg, and he started rubbing.  A few minutes
later, he stopped.  So, I rubbed his leg.  Class ended and we went to the
lab, and we never said a word to each other."

   "Nothing?"

   She shook her head.  "The next week came.  This time, he put his hand on
the top of my leg, you know, right here." Gia pointed to the place where
her leg met her stomach.  "He rubbed me there for a while, and then he
started sliding his hand inward, closer and closer.  So, I did the same to
him, and I could feel his hard-on.  Class ended and still, we never
talked."

   "Weird."

   "I know, right?  The next lab was our last one of the term.  Final lab,
big complex experiment involving just about everything.  The whole week
leading up to that lab, every spare moment I was looking forward to that
hour in the classroom, imagining what he might do to me and what I might do
to him.  I got wet thinking about it.  I masturbated in my dorm room
imagining it."

   "And?"

   "And it happened again," she said, only her voice had lost that dreamy,
sensual undertone, becoming more matter-of-fact.  "This time he rubbed
between my legs, and I rubbed his cock.  Class ended, and I never saw him
again."

   "That's it?"

   She nodded.  "But, don't you see?  It wasn't the final event.  It was
the anticipation of it -"the slow build-up over months with this stranger.
I don't even remember his name."

   "He never tried to slip you his number?"

   "No, and believe me, I would have called." -"

   I shook my head in disbelief.

   "That entire week I was horny, and I know if I had seen him -"anywhere
-"I would have fucked him.  Anywhere, I would have.  And, if we had one
more lab after that one -"I remember thinking this -"I would not have worn
underwear, and I was going to wear a skirt, and this was in December."

   "How far would you have gone -"in class, I mean?"

   She drew her head back, saying, "No one has ever asked me that.  I like
that question." Gia drew in a long breath.  Finally, she said, "I don't
think I would have jerked him off, and I wouldn't have wanted to have an
orgasm, not during class.  I don't know.  Maybe I would have excused myself
to go to the bathroom and given him a little wink."

   I chuckled, then said, "Well, your story was better than mine."

   "No.  Come on.  I liked it," she argued. 

   Silence followed.

   She sighed, asking, "What should we do?"

   "Gia, I want you right now, but -"and I hate myself for saying this -"if
we can't make it through one day, we're never going to get control of this
thing."

   "I know."

   "And the guilt..."

   "I know."

   I sighed.  "I just don't know."

   "I do," Gia announced.  "I'm going to do myself." She slipped her
panties off.  Leaving her tank top on, she rolled onto her stomach.  She
drew a pillow under her chest and popped onto her knees.  Her little ass
rose into the air.  Gia wiggled her knees well past shoulder-width apart.
Thrusting her arm underneath, I watched her hand rise between her legs and
begin touching.  Her body visibly relaxed -"her lower back fell, leaving
her ass high in the air. 

   She looked like a woman waiting to get fucked doggy-style.

   Gia turned her head on the pillow to face me and murmured, "You can
watch if you want."

   I sat up; adrenaline pumped through my veins.  Beside me, Gia
masturbated.

   "If you stay, I can see you stroke your cock for me," she uttered with a
satisfied sigh.

   "I need to look," I responded.

   She hummed.  "Then get behind me.  Hold my waist and let me feel your
thighs on mine -"for inspiration."

   I crawled across the bed and rose up to my knees.  Behind her, the view
was a knife plunged into my heart.  A curse rose to my throat, but the
excruciating beauty of Gia's body choked it back. 

   She could not have looked more sexually exposed, vulnerable, and
submissive.  Her face turned back to watch me approach.

   I edged closer on my knees, alternately watching her eager eyes and her
probing fingers.  When my thighs pressed again the back of hers, Gia
moaned. When I took her waist into my hands, she cried, "Oh!" My erection
hovered over her ass; my testicles pressed against its soft flesh.

   I let go with one hand.

   When she felt the tremors of my strokes, she purred, "Yes." Her eyes
closed in what looked like bliss, and she murmured, "You can cum on my ass
if you want."

   I grunted.

   A silent beat passed.  Gia whispered, "Or on my asshole."

   The desire to thrust -"to involve my entire body and not just my hand in
this act -"rose in me like gasoline poured into a fire.  With her hip and
ass in one hand, I urged her body forward and drew mine back.

   Gia held her breath.

   I brought us together with an audible slap.

   She cried, "Yes!"

   Again, harder.

   Again, still harder.

   Our skin walloped together; the shock waves moved across the muscles of
her ass and back in tiny ripples.

   "Fuck me!" she hollered.

   On my testicles, I could feel Gia rapidly jamming her fingers inside
herself.  I told her I was going to cum on her asshole.

   "Yes!" she cried.

   If not for the sound of damp flesh smacking together, the rapid,
unrelenting thrusts might have been mistaken for some kind of machine.

   Gia cried out that she was cumming.  Her head briefly rose from the
pillow.  She looked back at me, and her eyes were a mixture of anguish and
bliss.  Then, the front of her body collapsed to the mattress.  She drew
bounteous gulps of air and huffed them out.  Each was accompanied by an
almost silent cry -"as if the pleasure, itself, was so abundant that it
stifled even her voice.

   In the midst of her climax, I felt the pulses rising from my balls.  I
held her body still, parted her ass with my thumb and index finger, and
watched my erection hurl salvos of sperm upon her anus. 

   Gia gasped, "Yes!"

   With the last of my energy, I gently urged the front of my cock against
Gia's taut, wrinkled skin and let the final gobs coat her there, flesh on
flesh.

   The release complete, I sat back on my heels and collapsed sideways onto
the mattress.  Gia's legs slowly pushed out, and I watched her ass sink to
the bed like a torpedoed gunship.

   We panted in silence.

   Finally, I huffed, "Wow."

   Gia shut off the lamp and said, "I know." She sighed.

   Neither of us spoke, and the sound of Gia's breathing was like a blanket
of its own.  My body felt warm and, though spent, still somehow satisfied.

   Gia broke the silence.  "It's not fair."

   "Hmm?"

   "It isn't fair," she repeated, and her tone was less a pointed complaint
and more an exhausted lamentation.

   I waited for her to explain.

   "We can't fuck, but our bodies are perfect for fucking each other," she
whispered.  "I know it.  There's not a doubt in my mind.  That -"what we
just did -"would have been the best sex of my life.  Don't you sense it,
too?"

   "Yeah.  I do."

   "But, we can't ever do it."

   "Yeah."

   She didn't say anything more, and a few minutes later, I fell asleep. 

   *** 

   It was Friday morning.

   The dream I remembered when I awakened meant something, but I needed to
think about it for a bit.

   In it, I was dancing with Gia on a football field.  The grass wasn't
grass, but polished wood painted green.  It was night.  All of the stadium
lights were on, but the stands were empty.  Gia smiled at me and laughed.
Then, as if he were already and always there, Gia's ex, Nick, swept in and
took her from me.  I went to the bench and watched them from a distance.

   Anger welled up inside me.  I didn't want to her dance with that
bastard, and I ran to the sideline and screamed at Nick.  I called him a
cheating fuck.  I told Gia to dance with me.  She stopped and waved me
over. Just as I took the field, Mom, in a referee's uniform, appeared in
front of me.  She waved me back, saying, "It's too soon."

   I don't remember what I did after that.  I made a choice.  I know I did,
but I couldn't recall what it was.

   But, I remembered the rest, and I thought hard about it while I listened
to Gia in the shower.

   I rolled on my side and ran my hand across the sheet where Gia had lain.
My fingers came across a wet, sticky area.

   Then, the dream took shape in my mind as an idea, a warning: was it too
soon?

   Was Gia's attraction to me all based on the very recent and traumatizing
break up with Nick?  Was this a rebound tryst?  Was it too soon? 

   What if, I wondered, Gia and Nick had broken up months ago?  If that had
been the case, I doubted that I would be sleeping in Gia's bed lying next
to a puddle of my own sperm -"sperm that spent the evening seeping down
Gia's ass, over her vagina to the bedding. 

   Add to that, I thought, that the recent break-up wasn't just the end of
a period of dating; the two had been engaged.

   Not for long.  It was true.  The wedding was only in the earliest
planning stages as far as I knew.  Nothing but rings had been purchased. 

   Still, they had been planning on spending the rest of their lives
together.

   ***

   We practiced hard for two hours.  I was glad our focus was on perfecting
the first section.  I didn't think pressing my body against hers was going
to help anything. 

   I stripped Gia's bed down and took her sheets and the rest of her
laundry to a wash and fold place, paying the extra to have it all back
before close.  Gia protested, but I knew she appreciated it.

   Back home, Mom asked me about the recital -"how practices were going. 
Then, she asked where I'd been sleeping.  She wanted to know if I had a new
girlfriend.

   I told her a gentleman never tells. 

   She pursued it, asking if it was someone she knew.

   I hugged her and said when it was worth reporting, I'd not only let her
and Dad know, I would bring the girl over to meet them.

   This information satisfied her.

   But, it made me feel even worse.

   Having picked up Gia's laundry earlier, I returned with them after her
evening classes ended.

   She told me she was going out with friends. 

   I made her bed while she showered.  When I finished, I went over to the
bathroom and let her know I was taking off.

   "Are you coming back later?" she asked from the stall.

   "I don't think so."

   "What?  No," she protested.  When I didn't respond, she called out,
"Wait.  Come in.  Come in here and talk to me."

   I didn't want to.  Seeing her naked, wet body through that glass door
would take a sledgehammer to my resolve.  "Nah, I'm good.  Have fun
tonight, Gia!"

   I left to meet up with some friends of my own, although I wouldn't be
drinking -"football team rules.

   She started texting me from a bar about an hour minutes later, asking if
everything was okay, asking if I was upset about anything, and so on.

   To each of these, I courteously deflected matters: "We're good," "No
worries."

   As the night grew late, I knew she was getting buzzed by the tone and
content her texts.  They went from friendly interest to curiosity to alarm.
No longer asking about my feelings, she was now asking if she'd done
something to upset me.

   I redirected and tried to soothe and allay fears.

   She was persistent.

   When she insisted several times that I meet her at the studio when the
bars closed, I let slip my doubts.  "Gia, I love you, but let's just dance.
I can't be your rebound."

   She did not immediately respond.

   She's upset.

   In the wait for her response, I could hear in my mind the silence and
sniffles.

   Shit.

   I debated sending another text but ultimately decided against it.

   Five minutes later, her response came -"cold, and with that eerie
drunken calculation: "No one who loved me would send me that text, dance
partner."

   At a friend's apartment, I excused myself from a conversation and went
outside.  I called her, but she didn't answer.  Denied -"straight to
voicemail.  I followed up with a text, asking her to call me or let me call
her.  No response.

   For the next forty-five minutes, I tried to enjoy myself with my
friends, but I couldn't stop second-guessing my choices and decisions. 
Just as I was about to excuse myself, I got a text from her -"or, more
accurately, from her phone: "Hey, this is Fiona.  Can you come to O'Brien's
at 34th & Maple?  We need your help."

   "On my way."

   Twenty minutes later, I pulled into the small parking lot.  Two young
women were standing beside Gia's little electric blue coupe.  Gia was
laying across the trunk, feet on the ground. 

   I parked and jogged over.

   One stayed with Gia; the other approached me.  After introductions, she
said, "Thank you for coming."

   "What's up?"

   "Well, for starters, she's fucked up."

   "Yeah, looks like it."

   "No way we're letting her drive, right?  Thing is, she won't get in my
car so I can take her back to her apartment."

   I nodded.  Evidently, Gia had not told her friends about living at the
dance studio.

   Her friend went on.  "She finally gave up wanting to drive, but then she
started ordering us to call you, so..."

   "Yeah.  I gotcha.  It's no problem."

   "And since what happened with Nick, I think she's just..." Gia's friend
did not finish.

   Gia's voice broke through.  "He's here?  Where?"

   Gia's friend and I glanced over.  She saw me and fell off the trunk onto
the ground.

   I ran over and picked her up.

   Gia mumbled, "You two know my brother, don't you?"

   The ladies nodded, glancing at me.

   "He's a beautiful dancer, and his cock is like a hunk of hot steel."

   My body couldn't move, but my eyes darted to each of Gia's friends in
turn.  I felt blood rush to my face.  I stammered,
"Uh...that's...uh...really..."

   "Or...so I'm told," Gia interjected, "by a couple of his exes." She
waved her hand dismissively and added, "In case either of you is interested
in getting laid tonight."

   Gia's friends smiled at me uncomfortably.

   "Okay!" I said.  "I'll take it from here.  Thank you both."

   Her friends hugged her good-bye, and I waved to them.

   Out of earshot, I turned on Gia.  "Are you fucking kidding me?  A 'hunk
of hot steel?'"

   "Sorry, Dance Partner.  I told them I fucking heard it from your
ex-girlfriends."

   "Come on," I said. 

   She stumbled, so I carried her to my car.

   Two minutes later, I was driving her back to the studio.  Gia, however,
continued the conversation.  "Which, you know, I didn't," she suddenly
blurted.

   "What?"

   "I didn't hear about it from them."

   "Gia, what the fuck are you talking about?"

   "I didn't hear about your cock from your ex-girlfriends."

   "Okay."

   Her head lolled against the passenger side window.  A minute later, she
muttered, "You hate me now."

   "Of course that's not true, Gia.  I love you.  All I was saying was that
-"that we should focus on our dance." I thought about my words and added,
"And being a brother and sister who are best friends, help each other out,
always there for each other."

   "I am not on a rebound."

   "Okay."

   Suddenly, her voice rose into a protest.  Her head came off the window.
She argued, "We are best friends!  You're helping me!  I'm there for you!"

   I drew a deep breath, saying, "Hey, Gia?"

   "Yeah?"

   "If the situation was reversed -"me for you -"and I had just broken
things off with my fiancee, how long would you tell me to wait before
seeing anyone?"

   "Six months," she said without hesitating.  "Three, if it was a short
engagement."

   "Or what?"

   "What do you mean?" she asked.

   I clarified, "What if I didn't wait?  What would you tell me?"

   "I'd tell you to wait for six months."

   "Why?"

   She hesitated.  "Ooh!  You're trying to trick me, but there's a big
difference."

   "Okay, what?"

   "Same roles again.  I'm you; you're me."

   "Okay."

   "How long should I tell you to wait before spending time with people you
love and trust, like your sister?"

   "But, Gia we're...we're not hanging out like brothers and sisters do!"

   "Yes, we do.  We talk and tell each other things.  Secrets.  We hang out
together.  We help each other.  We dance."

   "And other things," I said, "that we probably shouldn't be doing, that
brothers and sisters don't do."

   "That's the tiniest, smallest part of it.  Like nothing."

   "But..."

   She interrupted, "How long would I tell you to wait?" She looked at me
like as attorney resting her case. 

   Those blue-green eyes mesmerized me, and I smiled.  A burst of laughter
shot from me.  I shook my head in resignation.  I said, "Not long."

   She put her hand on my shoulder.  "See?"

   I was not convinced, but I nodded.

   Back at the studio, I helped her inside.  Switching on the dance floor
lights, I finally got a good look at her attire.  She wore a white collared
tank top over blue jeans.

   "I have to pee," she said. 

   Seeing her from behind was like getting a painful shot.  I winced and
snatched up a breath. 

   Those jeans!

   They were not the painted-on, disco-style jeans.  These were regular
ones -"loose in places, for sure -"the cuffs, the knees.  Tight in others.
Her long, strong dancer's thighs pulled the fabric tight around her thighs
and calves.  What stunned me was how Gia's ass filled the butt of those
jeans to the brim.  The fabric had been cut and mended to follow the curves
and contours of a fantastic backside, and Gia's made those jeans bloom with
perfection.

   "Don't take off your jeans when you're done," I heard myself blurt.

   Gia turned.  Her face curled into a look that said, "Huh?" She shook her
head and continued to the bathroom.

   Why had I said that?  I watched Gia's butt disappear inside the door and
thought, "Yeah, that's why.  Fuck me."

   I knew I needed to go, but I wanted to see her ass in those jeans one
more time.  So, I waited.

   And waited.

   Been in there a pretty long time, I thought.

   I went to the door and listened.  Nothing.

   I knocked.  Nothing.  "Gia?"

   No response.

   I opened the door.

   She was on the floor, passed out -"passed out in those jeans.  At the
sight of her curvy bottom, that sharp pain coursed through me again.

   I rolled her over, picked her up, and carried her to her bed.  As we
approached her bed, the carpet fragment Gia had lain on the floor under her
mattress caught my foot.

   For a moment, I was going down, but I threw a foot forward and caught
myself.

   And I fell anyways.  I needed an excuse to push my body against hers.

   I pitched Gia forward.  She landed belly down on the mattress.  I landed
on top of her, my legs straddling hers, my crotch on her ass.

   A new, opposite feeling coursed through me.  It was a shot of pleasure.
My front, as it pressed against her, felt the taut flesh under her denim
pants, felt the curves and the valley between.

   I uttered, "Oh, sorry, Gia.  You okay?"

   "Yes," she said softly, the hint of a whimper in her voice.

   I pushed myself to my knees behind her.

   She didn't move other than to prop her torso up on her elbows.

   "Gia?"

   She turned her head slightly to the side -"not enough to look back at
me. It was like she was waiting.

   I looked at her ass.

   The two bulbous halves moved, ever so slightly, in a small circle, then
stopped.

   I had an intense fever.  I was freezing cold, and my body craved heat.
Gia was a bright, blazing incinerator that drew me closer.  I knew it would
torch me, but the heat felt so good, especially when it started scalding. I
shouldn't, but I had to.

   I planted my hands on the mattress on either side of her.  I lowered my
pelvis onto her ass, and I ground into her.

   "Yes," she whispered.

   Separated by our clothing, the few shapes and textures that I could
perceive were heightened.  They fired my imagination, painting at first an
unclear image of her naked body in my mind.  Every time I pushed myself
against her, the image sharpened and gaps in the overall picture filled
with details. 

   My heart raced.  My muscles filled with blood and energy.  I needed to
complete that image.  I pushed my burgeoning erection against her ass. 
Peering down, I watched where the fat tip strained against my shorts.  I
lowered it against her, at the base of where those two round hills met
under her jeans.

   Gia began meeting me.  She shoved her little butt against my thrusts.

   Desire burned in me.  I buried my face in her hair, smelling it.  I
nuzzled aside the silken locks until I found the skin of her neck, and I
latched upon it with my lips, grunting as I drove my erection against her.

   The tension on my cock was unbearable.  I released Gia, sitting back on
my heels and reaching frantically for my belt buckle.  As I slipped the
loose end back through and released the buckle, I glanced at Gia's ass.

   Everything slowed down. 

   Yes, I unbuttoned my shorts.

   Yes, I drew them down, along with my underwear.

   Yes, I kicked my shoes and the rest from my feet.

   Yes, I pulled my shirt off.

   But, I did those things while I stared at that brain-breakingly
beautiful ass, so it all happened while I was in a kind of hypnotic state.

   Completely naked, I was no longer interested in humping Gia from behind.
I had to have it -"have her ass in every way possible.

   I clutched it in my hands.  Gia gasped.  I squeezed it, foreign the
halves together and drawing them apart. 

   It wasn't enough.

   I buried my face into the denim, dead center in her ass.  I smelled.  I
pinched with my lips and sucked.  I dragged my tongue through it.

   Not enough.  More.

   In a frenzy, I dove my hands under her, unbuttoning and unzipping the
jeans in an instant.  I yanked them down and her body briefly followed
before the pants gave way and slid down her thighs.  I tossed them aside.

   Seizing those two full, fleshy halves.  I brought my face to her black
thong panties.  I licked from the crotch to her lower back, following the
narrow strip of satin between her cheeks.  I licked each globe, kissing and
sucking each.

   Her skin was flawlessly smooth and supple, warm and taut.  She smelled
like pussy, and I burned for it.

   I needed more.

   I slid my fingers under the crotch, feeling her wet labia on the back of
my knuckles.  I tugged her panties off.  Tossing her legs aside, I laid on
my belly, hooked my arms under her thighs so that my hands curled over her
ass.  I pulled her apart and, placing my nose firmly against her anus, I
began to devour her pussy.

   She tasted wild.  I want to eat this pussy all night, I thought.

   I wanted her to scream and squeal.

   I wanted her to tell me I was killing her.

   I wanted her to tell me it was too much, that I had to stop.  Then, I
would keep going until she came again.

   I wanted to smack her hands away when they tried to push me off. 

   I wanted to use all of my strength to hold in place, keep my tongue on
her clit while she thrashed and cried out orgasm after orgasm.

   When she collapsed into a post-climactic sleep coma, I wanted to stay
right here, between her legs, tasting her.

   She did not kick me away, even after her fifth orgasm.  Gia gave me
complete access, complete trust.  As I toiled away on orgasm six, her legs
were practically in splits, one foot on the pillows to the left, the other
at the foot of the bed on the right.  She arched her back to give my tongue
a more direct line.

   She begged me to lick her asshole, moaning every time I gave her pussy a
brief respite.

   She pleaded with me to finger fuck her ass.  I turned my head sideways
and wiggled my index finger inside, gently dipping it and feeling her
tightness roll over the knuckle, back and forth.

   After her sixth orgasm, I found that my exhaustion had overpowered my
desires.  I relented, pulling my finger from her ass and rolling over onto
my back.

   I was tired, but I felt good.

   She whispered, "You're the best.  Oh, my gosh, that was amazing." She
sighed.  She moaned with satisfaction, and she ended, saying, "It's yours.
My pussy is yours."

   My çock felt like it was going to rip through its own skin, but I
didn't care.  Gia's pussy was mine.

   ***

   I woke before her, hard-on in full flourish.  There was light, but I
wondered if the fucking thing never even went down all night.

   Sometime in the night, I had maneuver onto the bed and under the covers
beside Gia.  She was on her side, facing me.

   An urge welled up inside me.  I needed to see Gia's pussy and smell it.
Some innate, hard-wired instinct told me I would like it -"I would like how
things down there looked and smelled in the morning.

   I threw the covers down, exposing us.  I climbed over Gia, settling in
behind her naked ass.  Then, I lifted her leg and looked.  I inhaled the
fragrance.

   Beautiful.  Her pussy looked and smelled...ready. 

   I slid up the mattress.  Grabbing my erection, I dragged it over the
warm skin of her thighs and ass.  I drew the tip along the valley of her
little butt, from her thighs to her lower back, and down again.  And up.  I
spread her bottom apart with my fingers, placed the tip between, and let
the soft heft of the two halves clasp it.

   She hummed.

   Rolling her onto her back, I spread Gia's legs and maneuvered between
them.  I kissed her pussy and licked it. 

   Wet.

   Ready.

   I rose to my knees.

   She looked at me, and I thought, it's irresistible.  Those eyes, that
body, her face -"no man in my position could walk from this.

   I glanced between her legs, and there it was, again: that perfect blank.
The way the front her body came together -"the plane of her stomach and the
curves of her thighs -"how neatly and without blemish, wrinkle, tuck or
fold her body formed a nexus-like slot.

   Peering down at myself, I almost snorted at how hideously brutal I was
made by comparison. 

   Gia said my name.

   Almost panting, I whispered, "I won't put it in."

   "You shouldn't."

   "I only wanted to see what it would look like -"close, like this."

   She nodded.  "You can come closer," she uttered.  "A little."

   "Okay." I lowered my hips.

   She craned her head down, watching my cock approach. 

   I did the same, stopping only when my body aligned with hers.  Two
inches separated us.

   We both turned to each other.  She was terrified and thrilled, it
seemed. Her chest undulated rapidly.  Her lips came apart, and I heard her
shuddering respiration.

   "I just want to touch you with it," I explained.

   "Just touch," she agreed.  She raised her legs up and rested them on my
shoulders.  Then, Gia slid her hands down, under her bottom.  She gripped
and lifted it.  The act allowed her to raise her head from the mattress. 

   Then, we both bent to watch me touch her. 

   I brought the tip nearer.  It made contact with a soft bump.  I reached
down, grasped the shaft, and controlled the next touch, gliding the
throbbing tip up and down her slit with the gentle pressure of a summer
breeze.

   I continued the motion, now focused on Gia's face.  She bent herself up,
and it required great arm and core strength to hold herself in this
position, but she must've desperately wanted to watch.  Her mouth agape,
her eyebrows pinched upward in aching pleasure, her eyes lovingly followed
the head of my cock as it slid along her labia.

   She must have sensed my eyes upon hers.  She looked at me.  Our faces
were close.  She didn't say a word, but a faint whimper vented with her
breath.

   Her face was a magnet, but the sound acted as a trigger.  I leaned in to
kiss her; she received me with her lips.  She moaned into my mouth, and I
gave her my tongue.

   Her body relaxed, and I felt her torso lower back to the mattress.  I
followed, never wishing to break the kiss.  I let go of my cock so that I
could support my body with both hands.

   The head of my erection pressed firmly against Gia's vagina, and it
began to yield to me.

   Gia must have felt the bulbous tip part her labia.  She moaned again,
but this time an octave higher.  I responded with a rumbling groan.

   Instinct told me to keep our lips together.  If I drew back, I thought,
she might tell me to stop.  Besides, it felt too good, this kiss. 
Everything that made women beautiful and sexy, Gia was imparting to me
through her lips and tongue.

   I had been using my strength to keep my weight from forcing our bodies
together.  At that moment, however, I wanted to relax.  I felt dizzy joy,
and I wanted to let myself down.

   A warning -""You must not do this!" -"rang out in my mind, but I let its
echo diminish like distant thunder in the night.

   My muscles slowly released tension.  My body lowered.  My erection
inched into Gia.

   She hollered into my mouth.  When it ended, her lips attacked mine; her
tongue dove through my lips.

   The passage of my cock proceeded with agonizing lethargy like the
docking of a massive ship of war.  Every fraction gained was a new level of
paradise.  I savored the pace.  Her body felt tight down there, and I gave
her time to adjust for and to lubricate the new denizen.

   Gia cried out her pleasure into my mouth as my cock finally came to
rest, harbored snugly.

   If I had felt dizzy before, now I was whirling.  Every sense grew alert.
The taste of her tongue, the smell of her breath, the feel of her lips, the
sound of her moans -"it all intensified and grew pure like sunlight after a
late afternoon thunderstorm. 

   Hot energy poured into my muscles.  Gia's body, like a socket, fed it to
me through our connection.  I never felt so vitalized.

   I growled down Gia's throat.

   Turning my focus back to her, I discovered I was already thrusting
inside her as if animal instinct swept in to guide me from the moment her
body saturated mine with raw power.

   Still, we kissed.

   Her hands clutched at my lower back and ass, drawing me in, encouraging
firmness and speed. 

   Our bodies began to clap.  The intervals between shortened.

   Her lips and tongue told me faster, harder. 

   I hastened. 

   Moans and cries through my lips told me yes, more. 

   Our pace accelerated.  My body mashed into hers.  If it weren't so
machine-like in rhythm, one might have called the speed alarmingly wild.

   Gia broke the kiss, and she was singing her climax.  Eyes pinched shut,
this wasn't her whimpering breaths; this was new.  Not screaming.  Not
crying.  It was one note, high and filled with exaltation.  She pulled me
tight, not wanting any more thrusting.  She squeezed our bodies together
and sang her high note again and again.

   I was teetering on the edge of my own crescendo when I felt her body
convulse and squeeze my cock as she sang.

   I gasped at the surges suddenly welling up inside me.  Joining her, I
pulled our bodies together, and my cock gushed, squeezing jets of semen as
deep into her body as mine would allow.

   The moment it ended, Gia cradled my face in her hands and planted wet
kisses all over my face, whispering things to me after each.

   "The best."

   "I love you."

   "So good."

   "Thank you."

   "I love you."

   "I love you."

   "I love you."

   "Do you love me?" she asked after the last one. 

   I nodded, still sucking air.  "Yes, Gia."

   She kissed me again.

   I rolled off her body, my cock popped out, still erect and wobbling. 

   Gia's pussy had been astonishing.  Something a friend of mine said
occurred to me.  He had said, "There's four pussies: pussies, pussies you'd
fuck, pussies you'd eat and fuck, and there's pussies you'd marry." 

   Yeah, I thought, I would gladly spend the rest of my life eating and
fucking Gia's and none other, but...

   I could not complete the thought.

   She rolled on her side to me, and her left hand began to rub my chest
and stomach.

   I didn't know about her, but for me, the guilt was already filling my
heart with bile.  I felt cold.  My nerves were raw.  Disappointment and
failure embraced me. 

   I sat up.  "I'm going to take a quick shower and grab some breakfast for
us.  Then we can dance, alright?"

   "Oh," she said, "Yes."

   "Want anything?"

   "Usual, but I feel like a cream cheese danish this time."

   I nodded.

   We worked the final section that morning.  I stayed focused completely
on the dance.  Gia seemed to be looking for affection -"trying to catch my
eyes with a smile, light touches on my stomach and ass.  I didn't respond.
I danced, and I called for us to reset and dance again.  Very tiring with
lots of athletic moves, we only had an hour before her first class arrived.
Both of us were perspiring.  I pecked her on the cheek and left.

   ***

   I remained at my parents' home that night.

   Gia called me just after 9:00.

   "Hi, Gia."

   "Hi."

   "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry I took advantage of you last night.  I'm sorry
about this morning.  I'm..."

   "I need you to come over."

   "What?  Gia, no.  We can't..."

   "We can talk later.  Right now, I want you to take me to get something
to eat.  I'm starving.  Then, I need to pick up my car at O'Brien's."

   "Oh.  Oh, shit, Gia!  I totally forgot about your car."

   "It's no big deal.  We can get it, but I haven't eaten since you brought
me breakfast.  Take me to eat.  Hurry."

   "Be there in ten."

   We drove mostly in silence.  We sat in a remote booth at one of her
favorite burger places in silence.  When her appetizer arrived, I started
talking.

   "So, I'm sorry.  I lost control.  It won't happen again."

   She ate.

   "And, geez!  I'm really sorry about...about the end."

   She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

   I whispered, glancing to the sides, "About, you know, cumming inside
you. I mean, fuck, what if...?" -"

   "I'm on the pill," she interjected.

   "Oh.  But, it doesn't matter.  I did it.  I didn't even ask you.  I
don't even know if I could have stopped myself.  I -"I should have never
let things get so far."

   "I'm really sore."

   "Yeah?  Sorry about that, too."

   She ate quietly, thinking, it seemed.  I was dying for some kind of
response.  Finally, she pushed the appetizer plate away and said, "Look,
you're beating yourself up, and it's sweet, but it's not like you raped me.
I wanted it, too -"all of it."

   "Okay.  I'm glad it wasn't just me."

   "We're in this together.  I regret things, like you.  I never imagined
it would get to this point.  But, what are we going to do?  We can't take
it back.  We can't avoid each other.  We can't cancel the recital.  We have
to practice together.  We have a dress rehearsal with the entire troupe on
Thursday.  We perform on Friday night."

   "I know."

   "The question is how do we never let this happen again."

   "No more spending the night, for starters," I offered.

   "That goes without saying."

   "No more hanging out before or after," I added.

   She agreed.  "You come, we dance, you go."

   "Okay."

   Her food arrived, and she ate with gusto.  When she threw down her
napkin, I asked if she felt the way I did with the guilt.

   "You know I do," she said, "but it isn't just the guilt that scares me."

   "What else?"

   She stared at me for a moment, and then, staring at the table, she said,
"It was like -"like a crazy dare.  Do you remember that guy in my grade,
Hilt Bettenberg?"

   "Got run over by a car?  Shit, yeah.  What about him?"

   "You know what he was doing?"

   "Okay, yeah.  It was some old movie with college football players laying
in the street on highways, on the yellow lines, to show how ballsy they
were, right?"

   "Yes.  So, he and a bunch of other people from our grade started doing
it."

   "Until Hilt got hit," I said.

   "Yes."

   "He okay?  I thought he only broke some bones."

   "Yes."

   "So, what about it?" I asked.

   "I did it, too.  I was one of them."

   "What!?" I about jumped out of my chair.

   She nodded.  "I laid on the yellow lines at night on Highway 47.  Three
different times."

   "Holy shit, Gia."

   She nodded.  "Still scares me.  I still have nightmares."

   "I'll bet.  Fuck."

   She looked at me.

   I said, "Why are you telling me this?"

   "Because I liked it.  It's why I did it again.  I would have kept doing
it if not for Hilt getting hit and the whole craziness afterward."

   "Yeah?"

   "What happened last night -"for the last week -"feels something like
that.  It's ridiculously crazy, suicidally crazy, but I liked it." She
leaned toward me and whispered. 

   "Me, too."

   She leaned back.  "But, we can't.  It's beautiful and incredible and
perfect, but we can't."

   "I know."

   She sighed. 

   We stared at the table for a minute.

   "Split the check?" she asked.

   "Okay."

   ***

   My "outfit" arrived the next day.  Gia called to tell me after her
classes ended, and I came over for a fitting.  It was a loose-fitting black
button-up shirt over tight, dark purple bell-bottoms.  An outfit, in other
words, for an effeminate pirate.

   "Gia."

   "What?"

   "Let me pick my own outfit.  I can't wear this."

   "I know it's too small.  You're bigger than Nick.  We'll get it altered
tomorrow."

   "It's not the size.  It's the look.  I'm not wearing this.  In fact, one
of the reasons I don't dance anymore is because of all the ridiculous
outfits I had to wear as a kid."

   "It'll be fine.  Nobody thinks you're gay."

   "I'm not worried about that.  I'm just not wearing this outfit.  I'll
pick out my own."

   "I picked this to go with mine!" she argued.

   "So, you'll be looking like a pirate's sea wench?  Because as partners,
that's exactly what your outfit should be.  If I have to look like a limp
dick, prancing pirate, then you better fucking look like my salty sea
nymph."

   She giggled.  "It's nymph-like."

   "Let me see it."

   We went to her office, and she pulled it out of a box.

   Tiny black boy-short pants and am iridescent purple midriff-bearing
spaghetti-strap tank top with dangling beads.  Just imagining her in the
outfit made me burn.

   "Put them on," I said, my voice sounding a bit strained. 

   She turned and left.

   I waited, letting my imagination romp as to how Gia might look in those
tiny, tight shorts.

   She returned.  Holding her arms out, she spun.

   I looked for a second, cursed under my breath, and then I turned away. I
sat down.  It was a bad idea, having her wear them.  I said, "Okay, you can
take them off."

   "What's the matter with you?"

   "Thanks, Gia.  You can go ahead and take them off.  I saw them," I
responded with my eyes glued to the floor.

   "Is something wrong with this costume?"

   "No.  Looks great.  Please go."

   She knelt beside me and lifted my chin.

   I closed my eyes.  "Gia, I swear to fuck, if you don't get out of here,
I am going to...I don't know what I am going to do."

   She figured it out, voicing her understanding with a small burst of
derisive laughter.  "It looks too good on me?  Is that what you're saying?"
I sensed her standing up in front of me.  "Better get used to it.  This is
what I'm wearing."

   "I understand that.  Can you just...?  Can you please not fuck with me
right now?"

   "Or what?"

   "Or I'm leaving."

   "Are you going to wear the outfit I got for you -"once we get it fixed?"

   "I'm out," I said, standing up rather suddenly and striding out her
office door.  She reached for my shirt, but I brushed her hand away.

   "Hey!" she called.  "Hey, wait!  I'm sorry!"

   "See you tomorrow morning, Gia." I threw open the door to the waiting
area and left.

   There's never an excuse for a guy taking what wants from a woman. 
Never. The guy can always leave. 

   But, I'll say this: the urges -"painfully insistent and debilitatingly
powerful -"they are there sometimes.

   ***

   She texted me: "Are you wearing your outfit?"

   I responded, "Do I have to?"

   "Yes."

   "OK.  For you."

   "Thank you!  Come tomorrow morning."

   After a full non-dress rehearsal of our dance, Gia sent me to a woman's
home -"one of her performer's grandparents -"where I tried on the outfit.
It did not fit, and the woman took measurements.

   She told me she could alter the pants, but the shirt would be impossible
unless she could make it short-sleeve.

   Drop the poofy sleeves?  I thought.  Hell, yes.

   "Make it short-sleeve."

   She told me it would be ready for pick up in a few hours. 

   I explained all this to Gia in a text.

   "You-me dress rehearsal tonight" was her response.

   ***

   The erection began forming the moment I saw her again in her outfit that
night.  The pants presented Gia's crotch -"her blank -"to absolute
perfection.  Her body flattened in places and curved in others in such a
way as to direct the eyes straight for her crotch.  How, I wondered, can
nothing be so exciting?

   When she turned around, it became a completely new thrill.  The short
pants framed the proportions in the sexiest possible way.  They showed,
better than any swimsuit or panty, the strength of her ass and it's
heart-stopping shapeliness.

   By the time I held her body against mine, I was fully erect.  She knew
it.  She felt it.  As we held the support position, looking at one another
from inches apart, she looked excited -"open mouth, panting breath, and
eager eyes.

   She huffed, "Only when we dance."

   "Huh?"

   "Only when we dance."

   I shook my head, confused, but there was no time.  The third segment
began, and we broke our pose and continued the dance.

   We performed it almost perfectly, despite my erection.  As we held the
final position, I thought about Gia's words -"only when we dance.  Had she
meant that I got hard only when we danced?  What the hell did that mean?

   Gia relaxed and walked away toward the bathroom.

   "Hey!" I called after her.  "what did you mean about only when we
dance?"

   "Come on," she said.

   I followed her.  She went into the bathroom. 

   I stood outside the door.

   She grabbed something from behind the mirror medicine cabinet and set it
on the counter.  She waved me in.

   Stepping back, she made space for me between herself and the sink.

   She put her hands on my waist and turned me towards the countertop and
its basin.

   "Gia?"

   Her fingers unbuttoned my pants.  They unzipped them and tugged them
down.  Her fingers curled underneath my boxers and lifted the waistband
over my erection.

   She dropped to her knees behind me.

   Her fingertips -"they pulled my trousers and boxers down, exposing my
ass to her.

   A moment passed.  I waited.

   "Gia?"

   Her lips pressed against my bare ass.  Again.  Three times.

   I snatched my breath and held it because her fingers wrapped around the
shaft of my cock.

   Gia kissed and licked the flesh of my ass.  Never on the inside, she
went left and right, high and low.  She rubbed her cheek against it.  She
let her open lips drag over each hill.  I felt her breath wash across it. I
heard her whisper something, but I couldn't hear. 

   She did these things, and she tugged on my cock. 

   My breathing came in fits and grunts.  My erection throbbed in her soft
hand.

   Gia's tongue dragged over one of my ass cheeks, and she made the tiniest
wisp of a whimper as if licking my ass made some little fantasy of hers
come to life.  She whispered again.  I heard it this time.  "Only when we
dance."

   My head fell back, and I looked up at the ceiling.  "Fuck that feels
good." 

   It was as if her hands activated a heat pack inside my cock.  Not just
heat, though.  Power, too.  My cock felt heavy and strong under her grip.
It throbbed with hot energy.

   I looked down at it, and I saw what she had placed on the countertop.

   Gia's lips came together, and she sucked on my skin.

   I grabbed the container that Gia had pulled from the cabinet, and I
opened it.

   "Is this what you want?" I asked quietly. 

   Her lips drew away.  Her tongue licked.  She said, "Yes."

   I dragged my middle finger through it, and I wiped it on the tip of my
cock.

   Gia felt it.  She moaned.  Her fingers gathered and spread it around the
shaft.

   "More," she whispered.

   I put more on the tip.

   She coated my erection with some of it, and then her hand disappeared
with the rest.

   She rose behind me.  I listened to the swish of clothes sliding down
flawless, clean-shaven thighs.  Gia stepped around me, naked from the waist
down, but still wearing the iridescent, frilled top.  She walked to the
toilet, pulled down the cover, and with her ass facing me, bent down.

   I groaned at the sight when her beautiful ass unfurled. 

   Gia reached between her thighs and massaged the remaining petroleum
jelly over her tiny asshole.

   I moved behind her, watching.

   She pushed a finger inside, slowly pistoning the main knuckle back and
forth through the taut opening.  She added another finger.  She gasped when
it overcame the resistance and slipped inside.  Gia drove them deeper, and
then she waited.  A moment later, she withdrew the two fingers.

   Gia brought her feet together, and then she bent herself in half,
wrapping her arms around her calves and resting her face sideways against
her shins.  She waited.

   "You really want this?" I asked.

   "Please."

   I stepped to her, angled my cock to the little spot, and began to
push. 

   Gia grunted when the fat, plum tip slipped inside.   -" -""Oh, fuck
that's tight, Gia."

   When I began to push deeper, she delivered a strange, longing cry.

   I waited, unsure if I needed to pull out completely. 

   Her legs moved beneath me, and I felt her fingers slide over my balls.
There was movement down there.

   Oh, I realized, she's fingering herself.

   She huffed, "Okay...okay...okay, more."

   I pushed.  It took a few minutes for her and me to join together fully.
There were pauses and starts.  There were a few complete stops and
restarts. 

   The sight beneath me, I admit, seemed alarming.  The proportions were
all out of whack, like trying to fit a doorknob into a kids balloon.  Why
she desired this mystified me.

   When, finally, I was able to gently and slowly fuck her, there was no
doubt about her excitement.  She wanted it, voicing her completeness and
satisfaction in long, low moans.

   My balls pushed against the back of her hand.  Her fingers seemed to
move more excitedly under me.  I continued the methodical pace, anything
more would be cruel.

   Her orgasm began.

   She sounded so sexy that I went from being able to do this for hours to
imminent ejaculation in seconds.

   I uttered her name.

   She cried mine.  She told me what to do.

   I thrust as deeply as I could, and I held us together.

   She unbent herself in one swift movement.  I had to lift her a little.
She twisted her face up to mine, and we kissed.  She screamed into my
mouth; I grunted into hers. 

   When the surges ended, Gia kissed me and thanked me.  She told me to
leave it inside her as long as I could. 

   I admitted it to myself: there was something quite beautiful and sexy in
what we'd just done.  I had my doubts.  No longer.  It wasn't my first
choice, but I'd do it again.

   Gia took off her costume shirt, and then she asked me to carry us to the
shower.  "Don't pull out of me," she said, "if you can."

   I let my pants fall to the floor, and I managed to get my shoes and
socks off with my feet.  Then, I walked us into the shower.

   Inside, I turned the faucet head away from us.  Gia opened the valve. 
We both felt the water.  When she nodded, I turned the faucet toward us.

   "Did you like it?" Gia asked.

   "Yes."

   "I love you," she said.

   "And me you."

   "Always?"

   I nodded.

   Her face went solemn.  "But this," she said, glancing at the closeness
of our naked bodies, "is only when we dance, okay?"

   "Okay."

   ***

   On Thursday night, all of Gia's students filled the dance studio, and
she led them through a full dress rehearsal.  She introduced me before the
start, and I received a spontaneous burst of applause for being willing to
step in.

   Everyone stuck around for our dance, and the students cheered us on with
whoops, screams, and clapping. 

   It was our first performance in front of others.  We nailed it.  No
hard-on.

   A roar of applause greeted our concluding pose.  We bowed and hugged
each other, and then Gia thanked the kids and reminded them about the plan
for the recital the next evening.

   As the students filtered out to their parents and rides, Gia leaned to
me and whispered, "Only when we dance."

   I smiled.

   There were many parents with questions and a few last-minute costume
concerns, but by almost nine o'clock, the place had cleared out.

   "Spend the night here?" she asked.

   I nodded.

   We kissed and touched in the shower.  Later in bed, we fell into a
sixty-nine position.  I wanted her to cum first, so I lifted her off me
several times.  She whined and giggled about it, but it worked.  I got her,
and moments later, she got me.

   She must have been so exhausted from all of the preparations that she
fell asleep almost instantly afterward.

   Late in the night, I awakened.  Touching her naked, sleeping body, I
grew hard.  Gia stirred.

   I inched down the bed and began to kiss her beautiful ass.  Sliding my
hand between her legs, she opened them for me.  I pushed my thumb inside
her wetness and fucked her with it while my lips and tongue savored the
taste and texture of those two fleshy curves.

   Her climax was luxuriously feminine -"soft and yielding, replete with
muted, airy cries.

   *** 

   Mom, Dad, and I helped Gia set up the stage for the event on Friday
evening -"checking the sound system and lights, setting up flowers on the
stage, and other logistical necessities.  Her students began arriving at
5:15, and at 5:30, they did a full dress-rehearsal.  Gia and I did not
perform because she wanted to save her energy.

   People began arriving in force at 6:30.  It became real for me then.

   I grew nervous.  I hadn't danced in front of others in years.  There
were so many little things to remember.  Did I know them all?  Would I do
them without slipping up?

   I could not fuck this up for Gia.

   I took some deep breaths.  It wasn't like a football game. 

   She found me behind the stage and knew immediately that there was a
problem.  "What's wrong?"

   I shook my head.  "I'm cool."

   "No, you're not."

   "I will be."

   She glanced around.  We were alone.

   She cradled my face in her hands and said, "I know you will kick ass
tonight, but if it doesn't happen, I want you to know something.  First, I
won't care.  Not a bit." She took a deep breath and continued, "You came
home when I felt alone.  You helped me when I needed help.  You made me
feel loved when I felt nothing but shame and worthlessness.  You made me
feel sexy and wanted when I felt ugly."

   "I didn't do much.  Come on, Gia."

   She slapped my face.  Pretty hard.  "Are you pumped?" she yelled.

   "Shit, Gia!"

   She slapped the other side.

   "Fuck!" I yelled.

   She stood there and smiled.  "Isn't that what football players do before
games?"

   I laughed.  "Dumb ones, maybe."

   ***

   We stomped the shit out of it.

   I'd never seen Gia so happy in my life.  The recital ended at just after
8:00 pm, but Gia was chatting and accepting thanks and praise until quarter
after nine.  She and I remained behind to make sure everything was back in
order, and then I drove her back to the studio.

   "Only when we dance," she said on the way home with a huge grin.

   I returned the smile, already starting to grow hard.

   She noticed and rubbed me a few times.

   As I turned into the parking lot, my headlights swept across a person
standing in front of the door to Gia's studio.

   "Whoa," I muttered.

   Gia didn't speak.

   I glanced at her, and her smile vanished.

   I slowed down and looked closer.

   Nick.

   Gia's ex-fiancee.  He waved at her.

   "Oh," I said, stopping the car.

   Silence.  Sniffles.

   "I can turn around," I offered.  "I'll take us back to Mom and Dad's to
celebrate."

   "Pull in," she said quietly.

   I did, parking in front of him.  He raised his hand in acknowledgment of
me.

   I did not respond.

   He shrugged his shoulders.

   "Need me to come?" I asked her.

   Gia turned to me with red, tear-filled eyes.  She sniffled, wiped her
nose, and said, "I'm a big girl."

   "I'll wait.  Send me a text."

   "Okay."

   Gia climbed out.

   She and Nick spoke for a minute, and then they went inside together.  I
could see them talking in the vestibule area.

   Minutes later, my phone buzzed.

   "All fine.  You can go."

   I drove home.

   I didn't hear from Gia that night or the next morning when I drove back
to school for summer conditioning. 

   ***

   Apparently, Gia and Nick resumed their relationship, but it only lasted
three weeks.  I heard about it from Mom and Dad.  Gia didn't call or text
me once in all that time. 

   I was really, really pissed off at her.

   The first time she reached out was a week or so after the final
break-up. I didn't respond.

   When the football season started, I texted her: "Do not come to any of
my games."

   I hooked up with an art major.  She was pretty, and she had a nice body,
but nothing compared to Gia's.

   The season went really well.  I stayed healthy, and I led the team in
receptions, won conference player of the week once.  I was named to the
all-conference second team at the end of the season.

   My parents mentioned it earlier in the fall, but I didn't remember:
during winter break, the whole family was headed to Nashville for our
cousin's wedding.  Mom and Dad had reserved a block of three rooms for us
at the hotel and bought plane tickets.

   There would be no avoiding Gia.

   But, I was going to try like hell.

   I sat next to Mom on the plane.  Dad sat with Gia.  The next morning, I
feigned illness in order to miss family breakfast.  I had other plans for
lunch.  Caught an early ride to the church and made my own way to the
reception hall after the ceremony.

   I kept Mom and Dad between us at the table during the reception.  Gia
left and came back with fresh drinks for herself.  She didn't appear drunk,
but she was well on her way.

   After all of the traditional events -"cutting the cake, throwing the
flowers, and such -"the music began.  We watched the bride and groom do
their thing.

   I knew I could leave afterward, and I rose from the table.

   Mom took my hand.  "Dance?" she asked.

   "Anything for you, Mom," I replied with a smile.

   "Then," she said, leading me around the table toward Gia, "dance with
your sister.  For me." She drew my hand toward Gia. 

   When Mom let me go, I left my hand there, extended toward Gia.

   She took it, and I escorted her to the floor.  She was in a teal
mini-dress, and she looked incandescently sexy.

   A party song began.  The dance floor thrummed to the exciting beat.  I
took Gia's waist and her hand.  We swayed gently while everyone else went
crazy.

   "Congratulations on your season," she said.

   I nodded, keeping my eyes away from hers, scanning the room over her
head.

   "I'm not sorry for Nick," she declared.  "He deserved a second chance.
We were in love once, in love enough to want to marry each other." I could
feel her eyes scrutinizing my face.  They were like magnets.  I wanted to
look.

   But, I didn't.

   She went on.  "When you're in love, you forgive each other's mistakes,
even the big ones when it comes to marriage." She sighed, and I felt her
eyes move from me to the floor.  "That's the commitment," she said.

   I nodded.

   Silence.

   Sniffles.

   She put her face in my chest, crying.  I heard her muffled, sobbing
voice ask, "Are you going to hate me forever?"

   I didn't reply.  I hugged her close to me.

   Mom was watching us.  She saw me wrap my arms around Gia.  Mom put her
hand over her heart, and she reached out and took Dad's hand, smiling.

   Gia was absolutely destroyed from the moment I pulled her to me.  I knew
she didn't want to be seen this way.  Without a word, I led her to the
elevator.  She cried almost uncontrollably the entire way.  She hugged me
on the ride up, and she collapsed on the long walk down the corridor to her
room.  On her hands and knees, she sobbed.  Tears fell to the carpet.

   I scooped her up and carried her the rest of the way.  I opened the door
with my card and placed her on the bed.

   She wouldn't let me go, so I laid behind her.  A new bout of mournful
wailing came over her, and I rubbed her shoulder.

   The touching seemed to calm her, and a few minutes later, she fell into
a snoring, deep sleep.

   I slid out from behind her and undressed.

   I climbed into the other queen bed and watched television.  Late that
night while Gia slept, I turned it off.

   The lights outside the hotel room window illuminated falling snowflakes.
I slid out of bed and walked over to watch them fall.

   I wondered if I should forgive her. 

   Yes, I had been frustrated that my plan to eat her pussy and fuck her
like never before had been thwarted by Nick's sudden arrival.  I wanted to
celebrate our success with her.  I couldn't deny that a part of me was
quite upset about that missed moment.

   But, that wasn't the real source of my fury.

   I had done Gia a favor, and not any simple, ten minute deal like fixing
a flat tire.  I had sacrificed weeks of time to help her in a jam.  I was
happy to do it for her. 

   I needed a thank you.  I needed an "I couldn't have done it without
you." I needed more than an "All fine.  You can go."

   I understood that the rekindling of her relationship with Nick consumed
her time and energy.  But, she couldn't take a few minutes to see me off to
school?  Or call me, thank me, and wish me well?

   I heard Gia move under the sheets behind me.

   She probably fucked Nick that night, I suddenly thought.

   I silently cursed and rage burned within me.

   When it passed, I wondered if, maybe, I was wrong.  Maybe it was about
sex.

   My body jolted when a soft hand touched my shoulder.

   "I'm sorry," Gia whispered. 

   I glanced at her, and then back out the window.

   "It's beautiful," she said, watching the snowflakes.

   Her hand slid up and down the skin on my back.  It felt incredible, but
I had to know.  "Did you fuck him that night?"

   Gia looked up at me, and her hand stopped.

   "Nick," I said.  "After the recital.  Did you fuck him?"

   Her eyes grew watery as she looked up at me.  The room remained silent
except for the soft thrumming of the heater.

   She sniffed and nodded.

   I turned to the window, shook my head and whispered, "For fuck's fuckin'
fuck, Gia." I looked at the snowflakes for a few seconds, and then I turned
around and laid back down in my bed. 

   She watched me.

   "I'm the one who came back.  I'm the one who practiced every day,
sometimes twice.  I'm the one who supported you.  I'm the one who took you
out for a night to be social again, and I picked you up when you were
drunk. Shit, I'm the one who fucking danced!" I was digging my index finger
into my own chest.  In my anger, my upper body has risen off the bed.  I
sunk back to the pillow. 

   She stepped toward the bed, wiping her eyes.

   "The minute Nick shows up, I'm forgotten.  Dismissed." I brought my
hands up as if I were texting on a cell phone.  "'You can go.' The fuck was
that?  You never thank me?  You never come to say goodbye when I leave for
school?  You never even fucking called me!" I was almost upright.  My face
was red with rage.  Thrusting my finger at my chest, I hollered, "I'm the
one who earned it!" 

   "Is that what this is about?  Earning me?  Earning my pussy?" Her face
went red.  She called to the room, yelling, "Who gets to fuck Gia?" She
turned to me and answered her own question with bitter sarcasm.  "Whoever
earns it."

   She was right to be angry.  "It's not...it's not just about sex.  I
misspoke.  I'm sorry."

   "Explain what you just said then, if it's not just about fucking me."

   "It's about being the one who takes you places, the one who brings a
smile to your face, the one you call when you need help, and...yes, I'll
admit it: the one you want to sleep beside and touch and fuck.  It's all of
that together.  It's being the one you love."

   She remained quiet for a few moments.  My words had softened her anger.
Finally, she said, "That's a beautiful thing to say, but I can't marry
you," she said, "and even if I could, I wouldn't because of our family."

   "I know that." 

   "So?"

   "So, on the night of the recital, everything went perfectly.  I was
jacked for you.  You were beautiful and sexy and everyone loved you that
night.  I drove you home, and you told me 'only when we dance.' I think,
yes, this is the perfect way to end these two amazing weeks.  We fuck each
other's brains out, and we go to sleep in each other's arms.  Yes.  One
part of our relationship -"the sex -"ends, a new part -"how intimately we
know and love each other as brother and sister -"begins.  We thank each
other.  We say good-bye to each other.  Our lives move forward.  It's the
perfect ending."

   Gia sat on the bed.

   I quietly said, "That's how it was supposed to be."

   She nodded, wiping away more tears.  "It would have been beautiful that
way.  I'm sorry that I took you for granted that night.  I'm sorry that I
let you down...let us down.  Can you forgive me, please?"

   "I forgive you, Gia, and I'm sorry for being a dick to you these past
six months."

   "It's okay.  I deserved a lot of it." She rubbed my leg, and then she
rose from the bed and went to the bathroom.

   I sighed, glad that it was behind me and still a little wistful at what
had been lost.

   Gia came out, and she walked to the window.  She pulled the curtains
closed, leaving a much smaller opening.  I could still see the snowfall. 
"Is that dark enough for you to sleep?"

   "Fine.  Yes."

   The room was much darker, but not pitch black.  Silhouettes were clear.
Colors were barely distinguishable.  Gia walked towards the door to the
hall.

   "Goodnight, Gia.  I love you," I called to her.

   She stopped and turned, standing at the corner where the closet and
bathroom wall met the hallway to the door.  She was looking at me.  I heard
a deep breath.

   "Gia?"

   "You were amazing tonight," she said.

   "I was?"

   "Mm-hmm." She began walking toward me.  "I want you to know how grateful
I am for you coming home, practicing with me, and dancing at the recital
tonight."

   I wasn't sure what to say.

   "There was no recital without you.  You saved it.  But, more than that,"
she went on, "I want to thank you for making me feel loved again these past
weeks."

   She stopped beside the bed, standing next to my hip.  I was speechless.

   "I know you have to leave tomorrow and we have to say good-bye, but I'll
come to some of your games.  Then, we'll see each other at Christmas. 
There's the wedding, too.  We'll see each other there, won't we?"

   I swallowed and said, "Yeah."

   She pulled her mini-dress over her head and dropped it to the floor. 
She unhooked her bra.  It fell.  Then, she slid down a pair of tiny, string
panties.  She knelt beside me, and her soft hands began to rub my chest and
belly.  "Maybe," she said, "we can dance together at the wedding.  Would
you like that?"

   "Yeah, Gia.  I would."

   Her fingertips slid under my boxers.  I raised my hips, and Gia drew my
underwear off. 

   She was smiling.  I could see the glistening of her teeth in the near
darkness.  Holy shit, she was beautiful.

   "Me, too," she whispered, wrapping her fingers around my cock and
stroking two, three, four times.  "Because you know what happens only when
we dance."

   She slowly cranked my erection towards my right hip where her mouth
awaited its arrival.  She bent toward it, and she kissed the tip.  She
licked it, and then she clasped it with her lips. 

   What followed was the slowest and most sensual blow job I ever
experienced.  Gia nursed and suckled on the tip while her fingers massaged
up and down the shaft.  She climbed onto the bed between my legs.  There,
she stroked me at a crawling pace while she sucked on each my testicles in
turn, giving both the soft, caring attention of her wet mouth for minutes
on end.

   Satisfied, she rose and hovered over the tip as the shaft twitched in
anticipation.  She planted her hands beside my hips, and then her head fell
in slow motion.  I watched my entire cock vanish through her lips. 

   The noises she made -"little hums of satisfaction, slurps of savoriness,
and gasps of rapture -"drove me past the limit of ecstasy.  Twice, she
brought me to the brink, only to ease off and let me slide back down where
she started all over again.

   Her pace never increased.  I watched every inch of my cock disappear and
emerge, over and again, in and out of Gia's mouth with the languor of a
sleeper's breathing.  For the third time, I peaked.  She knew, but this
time she held in place, with her lips tightly securing the root of my cock
and the rest nestled snugly in the wet warmth of her throat.

   I grunted her name.  She issued a short, high moan.  Then, my body
released. 

   Gia didn't move as my penis swelled inside her throat.  The throbbing
contractions meted out what felt like wave upon wave of liquid power. 

   When it ended, she remained, unmoving, for a long time.  I heard her
swallow.  Her mouth opened with a gasp.  Rushes of air swept up and down
the shaft as it gradually emerged from her mouth.

   I pulled her to me, and she rested her head on my chest.  I kissed her,
thanked her, and told her how amazing it had felt.  She told me that she
loved everything about my cock.  She said that if she were my wife, she
would suck on it every day.

   I rubbed her back, thinking about her words.  I wondered what I would do
to her every day.  I could think of a lot of things.  What wouldn't I do? I
supposed that I couldn't fuck her tits.  They were too small for that.

   Then it dawned on me how Gia, though never once mentioning it, perhaps
sometimes felt envious of other women's breasts.  I had certainly neglected
Gia's tits as a lover.  I imagined other men in her life had, too.  With
such legs, such a pussy and ass, what was the point? 

   I gently moved her onto her back.  I climbed between her legs, and I
whispered, "I've got to have your tits, Gia.  Just been dreaming about
them."

   She looked up at me as if I were joking.

   I didn't give it the time.  I wanted her to know how serious I was.  I
kissed them and stroked them.  "Fuck, yes," I whispered.  I pinched a
nipple and sucked on the other one.

   Her small breasts made me want to be gentle and loving, never rough.  I
felt like a kid with a strange, new toy -"one he wasn't quite sure how it
worked, but one that he knew he could make "go." All of my senses and
energies were focused on Gia's tits.  I explored everything about them.

   What finally triggered Gia was feeling me grow hard against her.  It was
then, I think, she knew that I wasn't kidding -"that I really liked her
little tits. 

   When I sucked her nipples, she began to moan and tell me, "Yes."

   After ten minutes of unceasing, yet soft breast and nipple play, I rose
above her.

   She pulled my face towards her and kissed me, machine gun-like, all over
my cheeks and lips.  When she stopped, she said, "No guy has ever done that
to me before.  I never thought my tits were very exciting for guys."

   "Not exciting?" I asked, and then I pushed the head of my cock against
Gia's pussy.

   "Oh!" she cried, and then an enormously joyful grin spread on her
face. 

   I bent down and licked one of her nipples.

   When I came back up, she said, "Lay down."

   We switched places.  Gia straddled me.  She reached back, grabbed my
cock and lined it up.  When she let go, she sat back against it, grunting
as my erection stretched and charged her body.

   Once fully connected, she bent down and kissed me.  Our tongues
intermeshed, and she began to ride my cock. 

   I didn't move.  I let her do what she wanted with me. 

   She started slowly, and at some point, she found her spot.  Her energy
ramped up.  The bed rocked to her rhythm.  She rode hard.  Her head sagged
toward her chest, and her hair obscured her face as it shook. 

   Gia collapsed on my chest, but her ass continued to drive down into me.
She called my name, and I grabbed her ass and began to thrust with her. 
Our bodies slapped, and she cried out several times before sighing and
melting into me, it seemed.

   I held her butt and continued to push inside her gently.  A minute
later, she rose and said, "You don't know how good that feels."

   I used my leverage on her ass to lift myself to her lips. 

   We kissed, and she said, "I like your hands on my ass." -"

   "So do I."

   "Feels good in your hands?"

   I nodded.

   She stopped me.  "I'll let you look and feel." Gia climbed off me and
spun around.  On all fours, she scooted back toward me, and I groaned at
the sight.  In position, I guided myself into her pussy, and she let her
body weight drive my cock home.

   She held for a moment, adjusting herself, and then she did something
that made me gasp, made my cock throb inside her, and made my hands almost
instinctively reach out and clutch the two curvy halves of her ass.

   She arched her back. 

   In my experience, more often than not women were most comfortable
curling forward in the reverse cowgirl position.  Their backs pushed out,
and their asses almost disappeared.  Gia did the exact opposite.  She drew
her lower back in, pushing out her butt in a swooping curve that presented
that part of her body in the most erotic way imaginable.

   Then, she rode me, occasionally looking back at me over her shoulder. 

   I could not help but thrust along with her as my hands caressed and
squeezed her ass.

   "I'm going to cum, Gia."

   "I know," she said.

   I tried to respond, but the feeling was so good that I gasped.  I
snatched a breath and uttered, "Gia, let me kiss you when I cum."

   She stopped moving, and I quickly repositioned us in the missionary. 
When I penetrated her, we kissed.  She moaned.

   She liked it.  Holy shit.  The kissing and fucking brought her to climax
even before me.  She broke it only to issue a piercing cry, sustaining it
as her fingers dug into my ass.  Her pleasure pushed me over.  I covered
her lips with mine, grunting as my cock surged inside her and fed her body
my hot fuel.

   I broke the kiss to let out a rumbling growl as the feeling crested.

   "I love you," she cried.  Again.  Again.  Each time she said the words,
her voice diminished until, finally, it was a whisper in my ear.

   ***

   Years passed.  Careers started, stopped, and re-started.  Marriages
happened.  Children arrived.  Through it all, Gia and I remained close,
talking on the phone at least twice a week and spending family holidays and
vacations together with our own spouses and kids. 

   It might amaze some to discover how often a brother and sister who love
one another can find opportunities to dance.

   *****


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