Note: This story was dynamically reformatted for online reading convenience.
 
 "So, what's the deal with you and your sister?"

   The question caught me by surprise, enough so that what promised to be a
perfectly executed headshot ended with my character being fragged by a tank
instead.

   "What do you mean?" I asked.  I hadn't the faintest clue what Nick was
talking about.

   "I dunno," Nick replied.  "You guys seem really...close, that's all."

   "Well, we are twins," I said sarcastically, annoyed that this seemingly
inane line of questioning had cost me the lead.

   "I mean really close.  Like, freaky close," Nick continued.

   "Yeah, no idea what you're talking about dude." Nick was a good friend,
but he could be a little thick sometimes, especially when it came to the
opposite sex.  My sister was no exception.

   Speak of the devil and she shall appear.  My eminently more studious
twin entered our apartment, carrying an armful of books.  What possessed
her to take eighteen hours in one semester was beyond me, but she seemed to
be balancing her course load effectively, although her social life was
virtually non-existent, outside of hanging out with me.

   "Hey Jack," Jennifer greeted me breathlessly.

   "Hey Jen.  Care to join us?" I asked, gesturing towards the TV with my
controller.

   "Can't.  Mid-term tomorrow.  Some of us actually have to study once in a
while," my sister replied with mock criticism.

   "That's your fault for setting the bar too high.  Some of us know how to
manage parental expectations," I retorted.

   Jennifer rolled her eyes.  "Mom and Dad would be so proud.  Well, I'll
let you two get back to killing aliens or Nazis or whatever it is your
killing today.  Love you," she said, leaning over the back of the sofa to
hug me from behind and kiss my cheek.

   "Ditto," I replied.  It was something of an inside joke between the two
of us, a reference to an old Patrick Swayze movie our mother was
particularly fond of.  With that, Jennifer picked up her books and made her
way to her bedroom, closing the door to block out the sounds of electronic
gunfire.

   "You good to go?" I asked Nick, eager to return to our digital mayhem.

   Nick just stared at me instead.  " You see!  That, right there!" he
shouted.  "What?" I asked.  What the hell was his problem?

   "You live together.  You hang out all the time.  You're all lovey-dovey
with each other.  You act like you're, you know, together," Nick explained.

   I was starting to get annoyed.  "Look, me and Jen are tight, ok?  We've
been each other's best friend our whole lives.  It doesn't mean anything
weird is going on between us."

   "I'm just saying, when people see you in public together, people that
don't know you, they think you're a couple.  And that's pretty fuckin'
weird," Nick insisted.

   My patience finally ran out.  "Whatever dude," I said dismissively.  "As
much as I appreciate your incestuous implications, I too have a mid-term in
the morning and I intend to at least show up for it."

   He took the hint.  "Later man," he said as he made his way to the door.

   "Later."

   I continued to play for another hour or so alone after Nick left, but I
was still distracted by our earlier conversation.  Nick wasn't exactly a
social butterfly or anything, so if he was picking some kind of weird vibe
between me and my twin, there was a good chance other people were as well.
Eventually I called it quits and went to bed.

   Sleep eluded me for the next several hours.  Nick's words kept echoing
my head, and hard as I tried to ignore the implications, there was a cold
logic behind his words.  Perception is everything and even if nothing
inappropriate was going on between me and my sister, the mere appearance of
it could have lasting implications.  It would explain my non-existent
dating streak.

   I didn't open my eyes when I heard my bedroom door creak open.  Jennifer
would sneak into my room all the time when we were kids, a habit that
continued to manifest into adulthood.  I thought nothing of it before,
happily enjoying the warmth and intimacy of the ritual.  But as I felt the
bed shift as Jennifer sat down on her side, I realized that this was
exactly the sort of thing Nick was talking about.

   "Move over," she ordered, poking me in the back.

   "You do you realize that you have your own bed, right?" I asked
rhetorically.

   "Yours is more comfortable," Jennifer replied.

   "They're exactly the same."

   "Well, I like sleeping with you," she said.  As if to stress the point,
Jennifer reached for my hand and intertwined our fingers.  At that point, I
gave up on sleep entirely.

   "Jen, do you ever think that maybe we're a little too...comfortable with
each other?" I asked slowly.

   "What do you mean?"

   "Like this," I said, squeezing her hand for emphasis.  "What we're doing
right now."

   "We've shared a bed ever since we were kids," my sister replied, a
little defensively.

   "Uh huh.  But we're not kids anymore.  Isn't it a little weird now?" I
asked.

   "I don't know," Jennifer said thoughtfully.  "I never really thought
about it."

   "I'm just saying.  I think our relationship might be a lot
more...intimate than most.  Like, inappropriately intimate," I explained.

   "Well, most siblings fight like cats and dogs over stupid shit.  We've
been best friends our whole lives.  I'd say we're ahead of the curve when
it comes to brother/sister relationships," Jennifer declared
authoritatively.  "Where us this coming from anyway?"

   "Something Nick said earlier."

   Jennifer snorted derisively.  "Nick's just jealous.  He's had a thing
for me ever since high school and he won't accept that I'm not interested."

   "You mean he's jealous of me?" I asked.

   "I guess."

   "See, isn't a little weird that he'd be jealous of me?  I'm your brother
for Christ's sake." I said incredulously.

   "I don't know.  All I know is that I love you and you love me.  Isn't
that the only thing that matters?" Jennifer asked anxiously.

   She had a point.  We were close.  Why should I give a crap what anyone
else thinks?  "I guess you're right," I said, suddenly eager to let the
subject drop.

   "Of course I'm right.  I'm always right," Jennifer said, sounding
somewhat relieved.

   "What about when you thought the Russians invaded Atlanta?" I teased.

   " I didn't know Georgia was a country at the time," my sister muttered.

   "Still, it didn't strike you as a little odd?  Did you think Red Dawn
was a documentary?"

   " You're never going to let that go, are you?" Jennifer asked crossly.

   "I'll only bring it up when the time is right," I smirked.  "Classes. 
School functions.  Parties, assuming we're ever invited to one.

   "Fuck you."

   "Love you too."

   It's never fun waking up with morning wood.  It's a cruel and thoroughly
useless erection, and particularly insidious when you realize it's nestled
firmly against your sister's ass.  To make matters worse, our nocturnal big
spoon/little spoon reversal also resulted in my right hand gently cupping
Jennifer's right breast.

   The one thing I had going for me was that Jennifer was still fast
asleep. I quickly and quietly withdrew from the quasi-incestuous embrace
and made my way to the bathroom to take care of business, cursing the fact
that I'd accidentally gotten to second base with my twin sister.  Talk
about inappropriate.

   When I emerged from the bathroom a few minutes later, I was greeted by a
yawning stretching Jennifer, dressed in her usual sleep attire, which
consisted of panties and one of my old t-shirts.  Apparently this
particular shirt had shrunk considerably in the laundry, because as my
sister stretched, the fabric of the shirt slid up her legs, exposing she
sheer material of her underwear.

   Yep.  Definitely inappropriate.

   Luckily, Jennifer either had no recollection of our awkward morning
embrace or had simply decided not to mention it.  Either way, I was spared
considerable embarrassment.  I mulled over my predicament as I sat in class
that morning, eager to find a way to mitigate my unnatural desires without
hurting my sister's feelings.

   To be honest, this probably wasn't the first time I'd reacted to my
sister's body, but I was never as cognizant of it as I was now.  Both of us
were woefully inexperienced when it came to sex, a consequence of a certain
degree of social ineptitude, as well as our lifelong emotional intimacy. 
I'd always found her attractive, but I never found myself dwelling on her
body so intently before.  It occurred to me that I had seen more of her
than anyone else on the planet.

   And just like that, I was once again punished by the gods of
inconvenient and painful erections, the kind that used to strike without
warning during puberty.  Thus, I has the privilege of spending the rest of
the lecture trying desperately to think about anything other than what my
sister looked like naked.

   What I needed was a distraction.  Someone other than my twin sister to
dwell on.  Someone that was actually an option.  That last part was the
most difficult.  I still hadn't quite mastered the art of talking to a
woman that wasn't related to me.  Too many video games, not enough football
I assumed.

   I took a mental count of eligible female classmates I actually knew by
name.  It was a short list.  Vicky and Michelle.  I'd actually gotten to
know Michelle fairly well over the last several weeks, thanks to a series
of shared classes and interests.  Nick, Jen, Michelle, and I had formed a
mini nerd club, which met regularly at her dorm room to play video games
and discuss all things geek chic.  Unfortunately, Michelle had the sex
drive and appeal of a turnip, so our relationship was destined to remain
platonic indefinitely.

   Vicky was Michelle's roommate, which was about the extent of what I knew
about her.  She kept to herself for the most part, although she would
interject occasionally whenever classic film happened to be the topic of
discussion.  She was pleasant enough, even if she was a little aloof.  It
seemed like Vicky would be my best option.  She was cute, not jaw-dropping
beautiful or anything, but certainly attractive.  She didn't seem overtly
interested in me, but then again she didn't seem particularly interested in
anyone, so I decided to risk it.  A bruised ego wouldn't be the worst thing
in the world.

   I decided to run the idea by Jennifer first.  This was uncharted
territory after all, and in spite of recent awkward developments, she was
still my best friend and confidant.  Best of all, she was a woman, so I
imagined that if nothing else, her feminine insight might come in handy.

   "So, I've been thinking about asking Vicky out," I announced casually as
I tuned my guitar.  I rarely needed to find a decent transition or
establish context when beginning a conversation with my sister, an
advantage to having similar thought processes.

   "Oh?  And why would you want to do a thing like that?" she asked with
slightly narrowed eyes.  Weird.  I'd expected her to tease me a little, but
her tone sounded almost catty.

   "I don't know.  She's cute.  Seems kind of interesting." I didn't expect
to have to defend myself.

   "Was she cute and interesting last week?" Yep.  Definitely catty.

   "I suppose so.  Why do you ask?" I inquired carefully.

   "She just doesn't seem like your type, that's all," Jennifer said
noncommittally.

   "I have a type?" I asked, genuinely curious.

   "Everyone has a type.  Didn't think you went for frigid and pretentious,
but who am I to judge?"

   What the hell was her problem?  "Look, are you going to help me or not?"
I asked crossly.

   Jen sighed.  "Fine.  But I'm doing this under protest."

   "Your objection is noted.  So, what do you know?"

   "Well, she's pale.  Not elegantly fair skinned like your beautiful
sister.  More like a freaky, dead pale.  She might be a vampire."

   I wasn't amused.  "You're not helping."

   "Fine.  Well, she thinks you're cute, in a geeky 'Dungeons and Dragons'
sort of way," Jennifer explained.

   "We don't play Dungeons and Dragons.  We don't even play Magic the..."

   "Yeah, she's not going to be able to make that distinction, and I'd
advise against trying to do it for her," my sister replied irritably.  "Now
may I finish?"

   "Sorry."

   "That's ok.  Anyway, she's really into old movies, especially Alfred
Hitchcock.  If you bring up Vertigo, she'll talk about it for at least an
hour." Interesting.  I already knew the part about classic movies, but the
Hitchcock thing was new information.

   "I've never seen it."

   Jennifer shook her head.  "Don't bother.  Just bring it up once and
you'll know everything you ever wanted to know about it and then some. 
Let's see.  Loves the Stones, the Boss, Zepplin, all the classics, so I
can't fault her taste in music."

   "Should I break out the guitar?" I asked, idly strumming a few chords.
Jennifer was not pleased.

   "No.  Do not be that guy.  You and I jam together and it's awesome and
fun and we have a great time.  But if you use your guitar to try to get
into some girl's pants like every other asshole with a faux hawk on this
campus, you will have a head injury and a broken guitar.  Are we clear?"

   "Fine, fine," I said as I put my hands up in mock surrender.  "Anything
else."

   "That's about it.  Try not to over-think it.  Just talk to her like you
talk to me and you'll be fine." She paused for a moment, searching for the
right words.  "Look, you're a great guy.  I'm not just saying that because
I'm your sister and I have to love you." She paused again, and her voice
grew softer.  "You make me laugh.  You always know exactly what to say and
do to make me feel better when I'm sad, or scared, or angry.  I never have
to hide anything when I'm with you.  I can come to you with anything,
anything at all and I never have to worry that you'll think it's stupid or
petty.  When I'm with you, I'm just...happy.  I guess what I'm saying is,
don't sell yourself short.  Any girl would be lucky to have you."

   I didn't know how to respond to that.  The air seemed hot and thick and
uncomfortable and Jennifer just kept staring at me, waiting for me to say
something.  "Thanks for the vote of confidence," I stammered shakily.

   "Anytime."

   Jen's advice was pure gold and within the week I had a girlfriend. 
Vicky's assimilation into our little band included an extra, her best
friend from high school, Ryan.  I was surprised to learn that Ryan was gay,
a fact that made me uncomfortable at first, a consequence of growing up in
the bible belt.  As it turned out, reports of the predatory nature of our
nation's homosexuals were greatly exaggerated and I chucked that piece of
trivia into the pile of stupid things I learned living in a small town.

   That being said, I didn't particularly like the guy.  He was kind of
like a male Vicky, although slightly less effeminate and exponentially more
morose.  Dude needed to get laid, or high, or something.

   Sadly I'd been rather unsuccessful in my sexual escapades as well. 
Vicky and I indulged each other in the occasional door room make out
session, much to Michelle's annoyance, but the physical aspect of our
relationship progressed at an infuriatingly sluggish pace.  The best I'd
managed was a little clumsy, "under the shirt, over the bra," action, which
was more frustrating than arousing.

   My physical relationship with Vicky was similar to fishing.  It took a
lot of effort to get started, the process itself wasn't all that
interesting, and I never really accomplished anything.  It felt like I was
constantly auditioning for a role I didn't really want.  Jennifer wasn't
wrong about Vicky being frigid, but there was plenty of blame to go around.
When it came down to it, every time I kissed Vicky, I felt like I was
kissing a stranger.  which kind of defeated the entire purpose of the
relationship.

   Nonetheless, I persevered.  Vicky still had one distinct advantage over
Jennifer; she wasn't a blood relative.  And that, apparently, made her
worth settling for.

   I briefly considered consulting Jennifer on the subject, but it was
obvious that to do so would be worse than useless.  Jen had become
increasingly...aggressive in asserting her position as sister/best
friend/most important woman in my life.  She was almost territorially
affectionate, even in public, to the point of making it slightly
uncomfortable for everyone in the vicinity, especially Vicky.  She might
not have been the most warm or affectionate woman in the world, but she had
jealousy down pat.

   In spite of these setbacks, our little gang began to solidify,
friendships coalescing around shared hobbies, interests, and personalities.
Video games and stoner humor continued to be the bedrock of my friendship
with Nick.  Michelle and I bonded over anime, one of the few interests my
twin and I did not share; Nick and Vicky discussed science in general, and
biology specifically at length.  Jen even made a point of inviting Ryan
over to our apartment for the occasional jam session, and I admitted, a bit
begrudgingly, that having a drummer was a vast improvement.

   Still, we weren't exactly one big happy family.  Michelle seemed to
simply tolerate the presence of anyone other than Vicky or myself.  Nick
began making fumbling, half-hearted attempts to flirt with my sister, who
remained steadfastly and deliberately oblivious to it.  Ryan and I could
never come up with a damn thing to say to one another other than "One, two,
three four," and Vicky and Jennifer's relationship quickly soured to the
point where they were just shy of openly hostile toward one another.

   The biggest challenge was the fact that for some reason, I became the de
facto leader of our modest crowd, mainly because I was the only one that
had at least one positive association with each of its members.  Naturally,
I got to hear all of the bitching.

   "Why do you two insist on fornicating in my dorm room?  Don't you have
an apartment?" Michelle grumbled.

   "Do you have to do that here?  In our apartment.  On our couch?  Can't
you guys exchange fluids at her place?" Jennifer protested.

   "I don't know what her problem is.  I've never been anything but nice to
her, but she acts like I'm not good enough for you or something.  She
really needs to get her own life." Vicky whined.

   "You ever noticed how he just...stays, even when your make it
ridiculously obvious that you're trying to get him to go home?  It's kind
of creepy, right?" Nick muttered.

   Ok, almost everyone.  Ryan didn't complain, at least not to me.  He just
kind of stared at people, as if he was trying very hard to read their minds
and enjoying a moderate degree of success.  And in fairness to Nick, it was
pretty creepy.

   The hardest part was balancing competing demands on my time.  My
classes, homework, friends, girlfriend, and sister all fought for
increasingly small shares of my finite time.  I rarely spent any time
hanging out with Nick one-on-one anymore, dating was suddenly becoming a
full-time job, and my time with Jen always carried an air of tension to it,
as if she assumed I'd be happier elsewhere.

   One night as I was working on homework, Jennifer took to working out the
kinks to "King of Anything" on her piano as I struggled through an English
essay.  The topic was easy, but I hadn't found the time to actually read
the source material.  When I finally came to the conclusion that I wasn't
going to be able to bullshit my way through this assignment, I realized the
music had stopped and my twin had vanished.  A second later, a pair of
thin, but deceptively strong arms were pulling me to the ground.

   Apparently Jen was bored.  Eh, what the hell.  I needed a break anyway.
I counterattacked, reaching below my sister's ribs to tickle her, one of my
go-to moves during our wrestling matches.  Overpowering her wasn't a
problem, but I preferred to subdue her by more tortuous means.

   "Stop it!," she squealed, giggling profusely.  "You rat bastard, you
can't open with that!"

   "Strike first.  Strike hard.  No mercy," I retorted, continuing my
assault.

   "I don't think this is what the Cobra Kai dojo had in mind," Jennifer
whined.

   "You rack disciprine," I mocked in horribly exaggerated Engrish.

   "Rape!  Rape!" Jen yelled through hiccups and giggles.

   "Shhh!  Someone might actually hear you, you know?  Plus, I thought you
were supposed to yell 'Fire?'" I admonished.

   "Won't they just think the building's on fire?"

   "Yeah, they kind of gloss over that part, don't they?"

   It was at the precise moment that I realized what a precarious position
we were in.  Jennifer was on the floor, her legs wrapped around my pelvis
in a vain attempt to keep me at bay.  She wasn't trying to now.  Our faces
were only inches apart.

   Jennifer stared at me intently, like she was waiting for something.  She
reached up, gently running her fingertips over my temple.  I started to
lean in.  She closed her eyes.

   Jennifer and I were thirteen the first time we kissed, just two young
teenagers eager to find out what all the fuss was about.  And like
everything else, we did it together.  We loved each other, trusted each
other.  Every experience we had up until that point that was worth having,
we did together.  It made sense, at the time.  We were young.  We never
considered the possibility that what we were doing was wrong.

   Five years later and here we were again.  Only this time, I knew damn
well it was wrong.  I just couldn't bring myself to care.  Jennifer inhaled
deeply as my lips met hers.  She tilted her head, cupping my face with her
hand as she returned the pressure.  I could taste her lips, her tongue, her
warmth.

   A faint buzzing sounds brings us both crashing back to earth, and I
curse the man who invented cell phones.  I couldn't answer it even if I
wanted to.  Both it and I were trapped between my sister's legs, but it
doesn't matter.  I knew that it was Vicky and I knew that all of this is
impossible and that I'd wake up any second.

   Only it wasn't and Jennifer just kept staring at me.  "Jen, what are we
doing?" I asked hoarsely.

   "I don't know," she whispered, and I realized that she's just as
desperate and confused as I am.  "We didn't do anything wrong," she says
tentatively, as if she's trying to convince the both of us.  "It's not like
we're hurting anyone.  We should be able to have...moments like this."

   Vicky would probably disagree, but Vicky's the furthest thing from my
mind right now.  We untangled ourselves from one another and sat up against
the wall, staring at nothing in particular.

   "Jennifer, this is," I stammered as I looked down at the carpet, unable
to say the word, "people have a word for this."

   "I know that," she gritted, suddenly angry.  "That's not...that's not
what this is." Her shoulders sank and she closed her eyes.  "I don't know
what this is.  All I know right now is that I love you."

   She sat there quietly, waiting for me to say something, anything.  I'd
never seen her look so vulnerable.  I wanted to say, "I love you too," but
I knew what would follow if I did, and as much as I wanted it I was
terrified of what it would mean.  It didn't help that my damn phone kept on
ringing, beckoning me to make a choice.

   So I answered it, and my beautiful, loving twin, sensing that she'd been
rebuffed, fled the room, slamming the door behind her.  I knew that I was
letting go of an opportunity, and I doubted it would present itself again.
I just hoped that by doing so, I was saving both of our lives and that my
sister would forgive me.

   Three weeks went by without either of us mentioning that night.  It
could have been a dream if it weren't for the dark looks I occasionally
received from my sister whenever Vicky and I were together.  After that
night, I was determined to make things work between us, to have an honest
shot at a normal relationship, one that wouldn't land me in prison.

   Yes, prison.  Turns out, my home state carried a twenty-five year
sentence.  There was very little information available on consensual
incest, but there was plenty on the non-consensual variety, including a
slew of Land and Order: SVU episodes.  Everything I learned confirmed my
worst fears, and left me convinced that I'd made the right choice, no
matter how painful it was.

   Jen and I made every effort to continue on like nothing had happened,
both in private and in public.  But something had broken between us and it
became more and more difficult for us to even be in the same room together.
The gang still met on occasion at Vicky and Michelle's dorm room, but we
went our separate ways more often than not.  Vicky and I would go to her
room.  Michelle, Ryan, and Nick would hang out in the living room, and
Jennifer eventually just stopped showing up altogether.

   We rarely spoke, even when we were at home.  Whole days would pass
without either of us uttering a word to one another.  I felt like I was
going crazy.  I wanted desperately to reach out, to touch her, hold her,
tell her that I loved her and that when I imagined the future, that she was
the only part of it that mattered.

   But my sister deserved better than that.  Husband, kids, picket fence,
and all that.  She deserved better than stolen moments and a life of
constant fear.  She deserved better than scorn, shame, and ridicule.  She
deserved better than metal bars and an orange suit.  So I stayed silent,
hoping that this...obsession would pass and the two of us would figure out
a way to be a normal brother and sister.

   While the cold war raged between me and my sister, my relationship with
Vicky maintained the same stagnant pace.  Sleep was becoming difficult to
come by.  Vicky had taken to staying overnight with me on weekends, but I
was starting to sense that it was more about staking a claim than it was
prolonging intimacy.

   Jennifer and Vicky are entirely different as bed mates.  Jennifer snores
for one.  Not loud, but enough to notice.  She's a rather messy sleeper
too, sprawling across the entire bed, entangling her limbs with my own.

   Vicky on the other hand slept like the dead.  Silent and still, she
curled into a tight ball, affording me so much space I sometimes forgot she
was there.

   I heard my bedroom door creak open late one night as I lay awake, still
in the grip of insomnia.  I kept my eyes closed tight, wanting to avoid
another whispered argument with my twin.  Vicky had every right to be there
and Jennifer was just going to have to learn to live with it.

   My conclusion, however well-reasoned, didn't make me feel any less
guilty as my sister quietly retreated back into her own bed.  I tried to
put that thought and all others out of my head as gazed at Jennifer's
tightly shut door, hoping I was imagining the sound of a lost girl crying
in the dark.

   As the spring approached, the cracks in the armor became deeper and more
jagged.  Vicky excitedly made plans for a spring break road trip, one which
included the entire group, save for my sister.  "Well, I thought she had
her own friends now," Vicky explained, feigning sympathy.  "I didn't think
she'd want to come."

   This slight and others didn't go unnoticed by Jennifer, and what started
as a quasi-amicable rivalry between the two women escalated to the point of
outright contempt, with Vicky getting the upper hand at every turn.  Things
were coming to a head.

   By some small miracle, Nick and I were invited to a genuine college
party by some guy named Dave.  Nick was given a laundry list of alcohol to
provide in exchange for his admission, while my sole instructions were to,
"make sure that fine-ass sister of yours shows up." As much as I despised
the notion of Dave or any other drunken frat boy piece of shit even
touching my sister, I thought that socializing with our peers might do us
all some good.

   The atmosphere in the Vicky's dorm room had grown suffocating since
Jen's departure.  Michelle was never the most social person, even by our
standards, but now she rarely looked up from her computer.  Nick and I were
forbidden from Halo, Madden, and all other forms of digital distraction
when Vicky was in the room, which was goddamn always.  Ryan and I had even
less to say to one another now that our jam sessions had come to an end. 
As for Vicky, I honestly kind of hated her.

   And so, the six of us made our way to Dave's house.  As expected, the
place was a dilapidated hell hole, worn down by years of abuse and neglect.
But there was beer, and beer can make anything better.

   We arrived separately.  Vicky and I rode in her car, Michelle and Ryan
in his van, and Nick and Jennifer in his truck, thus affording each of us a
convenient exit without burdening the entire group.  It also had the
unspoken benefit of keeping Jen and Vicky away from each other.

   Vicky had something of a tomboyish streak about her, which I actually
liked as a rule, but clashed considerably with the designated feminine
attire of the event.  All the other girls were dressed in cocktail dresses
of some kind or another.  I was actually a little excited about the
prospect of showing up at a social function with a date that wasn't my
twin, so the fact that we were dressed almost identically, jeans, leather
jacket, and Tom Petty/Rolling Stones t-shirts kind of undermined the whole
effect.

   Jennifer on the other hand looked like something out of a dream.  She
wore a little black dress, a very little black dress, which basically
consisted of a strip of shiny cloth that served to cover her ass and sort
of cover her tits, albeit very poorly.  I didn't know that she owned such a
gratuitous article of "fuck me" clothing, so I assumed she bought it just
for this occasion.

   Shit, she caught me staring.  The last thing I needed in a public venue.
She seemed please though, almost smug.  I tried to regain my composure with
a joke.

   "Mug a tween for that get-up?" I asked sarcastically, making a mental
note not to state at my sister's cleavage.

   "I know, right?" she agreed.  "I'm practically spilling out of this
thing.  They just don't make a decent dress anymore for a girl with tits. I
was going for Breakfast at Tiffany's, not Girls Gone Wild."

   "You look beautiful Jen." I whispered softly.  She smiled brightly at
me, a warm genuine smile miles away from stone silent sister I'd failed to
grow accustomed to.  Naturally that was Vicky's cue to fuck it up.

   "Jennifer, nice to see you as always," Victoria said diplomatically.

   "Vicky," Jen replied stiffly.

   "I love your dress.  I bet you'll get plenty of attention wearing that,"
Vicky said, her eyes glancing down at Jennifer's ample breasts.  I never
cease to be amazed at a woman's ability to mask an insult with a
compliment.

   "I know, it's a little revealing.  Must be nice not to worry about
that," Jen fired back.  It was not secret that Vicky's figure was a little
on the boyish side, and her manner of dress did nothing to help that fact,
but even I had to admit it was a low blow.

   "Why don't we get drinks?" I suggested, eager to diffuse the situation.
Jennifer, sensing that she'd been offered an opportunity to exit the
conversation gracefully, excused herself and faded into the crowd.  Vicky
and I made our way to the bar, where Dave, at least, I think it was Dave,
offered us both a bright red cup full of coldish beer.

   Despite early setbacks, the night held some promise.  There would be
drinking, there would be dancing, and hopefully the combination of alcohol
and poor judgment would make Vicky the Ice Queen a little more pliable in
the bedroom.

   Unfortunately, Vicky insisted on talking instead of drinking, and
instead of receiving another lecture on the genius of Albert Hitchcock, I
was treated to an angry tirade about my sister.

   "Thanks for your help by the way," she muttered after stewing for
several minutes.

   "You're...welcome?" I offered.  Wrong answer.

   "Look, maybe you don't care that she just waltzed up to us dressed like
some cheap whore, but the least you could do is actually stand up for me
when I'm being insulted right to my face," Vicky demanded.

   I bit my lip, holding back a vicious and poorly thought out defense of
my sister's honor, mindful that neither of them were in the right in that
exchange.  "She's not a whore," I muttered.  I couldn't help myself.

   "See!  That, right there!  No matter what it is, you always take her
side!  I'm sick of coming second to your sister Jack!" Vicky shouted.

   We were starting to attract a crowd.  Apparently people were still sober
enough to take an interest in our squabble.  I spotted my sister toward the
back of the horde.  She slipped her way past it and grabbed me by the hand,
as if she was trying to rescue me.

   "We need to talk," she muttered as she started to pull me away.

   "I'm his girlfriend Jennifer!" Vicky protested, prompting Jennifer to
turn around.  "That means we should be able to go to on social event
without you lurking around the corner like some kind of pathetic stalker.
And to be honest, this jealousy of yours is more than a little
inappropriate."

   "You want inappropriate?" Jennifer challenged.

   Before I knew what was happening, my sister linked her hands behind my
neck, pulled me in, and kissed me.  Not a quick, chaste, familial kiss. 
Not a lingering, intimate, borderline inappropriate kiss.  She put
everything into that kiss, all her joy and fear and anger and regret,
everything she was and is and ever could be.  She kissed me like we were
the only two people in the world.  Only we weren't.  Everyone, fucking
everyone was watching.

   Thank holy Christ, most of the people at that party had no idea who we
were.  But some did, and even one was far too many.  Especially since she
was standing right next to us, her face contorted in revulsion and fury.

   Jennifer froze, the implications of what she had done and where she had
done it flashing across her face in silent horror.  When we were kids, she
had a bad habit of making leaving me to clean up our mutual messes.  This
was no different.  She literally ran from the room, fighting her way past a
horde of morbidly curious onlookers.

   This situation made me a firm believer that a human being can indeed be
rendered speechless.  I just stood there, trying to process a couple of
thousand thoughts and sensations at once.  I needed to do something,
anything.  "Vicky, I..." I stammered hoarsely.  Only she wasn't the one I
needed to talk to right now.

   There was pain and anger in her face and all manner of other emotion,
but she didn't look surprised.  It was if every terrible thing, every
suspicion she ever had about my relationship with my sister was simple
inevitable, and had finally come to pass.  For the first time, we were on
the same page.  "Save it Jack," she spat acidly.  "You two fucking deserve
each other."

   Vicky stood there, waiting for me to defend myself, waiting me make an
excuse, come up with a logical reason why when Jennifer kissed me I didn't
recoil in horror.  But Vicky was right.  She would always come second to my
sister and that was never going to change.

   I ended up beating my Jennifer home.  Even though we were both on foot,
I had the advantage of running without heels.  Fifteen minutes later, Jen
finally emerged through our front door.  Her hair was disheveled and dark
black streaks ran down from her eyes.

   "Hey," I said quietly.

   "Hey," she replied tonelessly.

   She took a seat next to me on the couch, tucking her knees into her
chest and wrapping herself into a ball.  We sat there in the dark, the room
illuminated only by the muted images on the television.  Both of us waited
for the other one to speak.

   I broke the silence.  "Jen, what the hell?" I asked softly.

   "I'm know, I know," she moaned.  "I'm sorry, ok?  I don't know what came
over me."

   "If this gets out, do you know what could happen?" I demanded.

   "Little late for that, isn't it?" she said weakly as she started digging
for her cell phone.

   "What do you mean?" I asked darkly.  Something told me I had more to
fear than the drunken rumor mill.

   A familiar scene played out on her screen, cleverly titled, "Twincest
Freakshow." Fucking smart phones.

   "Good thing Mom and Dad still haven't figured out YouTube yet," she
smirked mirthlessly as she put the image away.

   "You think this is funny?" I demanded.

   "No."

   "We have to make this right," I persisted.

   "Why?" Jen asked defensively.  "You shouldn't even be with her."

   "That's not your decision," I asserted, although I was confused as to
why I was continuing to defend a relationship I no longer desired.

   "So you don't care what it does to me?" Jennifer asked me, her voice
shaking with a sort of cracked sadness.

   "I don't want to hurt you," I said softly, my frustration suddenly
replaced by concern.

   "Well, you did.  You picked the one way that you could hurt me," she
started, her voice cracking up, tears pooling in her eyes, "worse than you
could ever understand." She inhaled deeply, trying to hold back a
threatening sob.  "I know you said that we needed to branch out, open up to
other people.  And that was ok.  It made sense.  But when you're with
her... You stopped talking to me.  I never see you, and when I do you're
with her.  It's like I don't even exist."

   Until that point, I hadn't fully appreciated the damage I had done to my
sister.  I had no idea how to make it right.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't
know..."

   Jennifer laughed, a choked unnatural laugh.  "Of course you didn't know.
How could you know?" She closed her eyes, massaging her temples.  "Our
whole lives, we've only had each other," she explained quietly.  "But that
was ok, because we always had each other, and I never, even on the worst
day of my life, ever felt alone.  But now...it's like you're leaving me
behind."

   "I never meant for that to happen," I said solemnly.  I was desperate to
explain, to make her see that this was the only way.  "But don't you think
it's time we started living our own lives?  Don't you want to get married,
start a family, all that?  How are we supposed to move forward if we're
attached at the hip?

   "Is that what you really want?" Good question.  I hadn't thought to ask
it.

   "I don't know!" I shouted in exasperation.  "Look, I know Vicky isn't
perfect.  I don't know if we have a future together, but I feel like if you
love me, you'll give me a chance to figure it out."

   "If I love you?" Jennifer choked incredulously.  "If I love you.  Jesus,
Jack, are you fucking blind?  I'm in love with you!"

   And there it was.  There was nothing surprising about it.  I knew how
she felt about me.  I felt the same way about her and I probably always
had. All it took was my raw, shattered, and infinitely more courageous twin
to say it out loud.

   "You're...in love with me?" I repeated slowly.

   "Fuck.  I didn't mean to say that," my sister moaned.  I wasn't sure
whether or not she meant it.

   She drew a long breath, trying desperately to hold onto what little of
her composure remained as she began to explain.  "When it was just the two
of us, I didn't even think about it.  I loved you and you loved me and
that's all there was to it.  I just assumed it would always be just the two
of us and that was enough.  But when you started seeing Vicky, everything
changed.  And I wanted more.  And that night, when you and I...for a second
I thought that maybe what I was feeling made sense, that it wasn't wrong,
that maybe you felt the same way that I did."

   I couldn't breathe.  It was like the weight of her confession was
pressing down on my chest, stripping the air from my lungs.  I felt like a
goddamn coward.

   "It's weird, and it's gross, and it's fucked up, but it's how I feel,"
Jennifer whimpered, fresh tears spilling from her eyes.  "Aren't you going
to say anything?"

   That was the moment that I learned that as unforgiving life can be, once
in a while you get a second chance.  I had no idea what I was supposed to
say, and for a few seconds I just stared, trying to formulate a coherent
sentence that captured exactly how I felt about my sister.  And then a
little voice in the back of my mind reminded me that we were twins and that
sometimes words were overrated.  And so I kissed her.

   The next several minutes were a blur, my mind overwhelmed by sensation
and emotion.  I let everything I'd been trying to hold back, the love and
pain, into that kiss, savoring it, searing it into my brain.  Slowly, the
fear that it wasn't real, that this was nothing more than the tortuous
machination of a desperate subconscious faded away, and I began to simply
enjoy the simple sensations.  The faint scent of strawberries.  The slight
pebbled texture of her tongue.  The steady cadence of her breath.

   I felt her smile against my lips, causing me to return it in kind. 
"What?" I asked playfully.  The angry black streaks of smeared mascara were
still present, but the light had returned to my sister's eyes.

   "I dunno.  I guess it's just funny how things work out," Jennifer said
coyly.  "The truth shall set you free, right?"

   I regarded her for a moment.  She already knew, but she deserved to hear
it.  "I love you Jennifer," I said, unafraid.

   Another kiss, one I felt to my bones.  "I love you too," she whispered.

   The journey to the bedroom was brief.  I had a decent amount of strength
within my wiry muscles, so I simply scooped Jennifer into my arms and
carried her into our room.  We laid side by side, gently exploring each
other's bodies as we.  My fingers transitioned through the silky strands of
her hair, down the warm smooth surface of her face and neck, down, down,
down...

   Suddenly Jennifer stood up, and for a brief moment I was concerned I had
crossed a line, but she was still smiling.  Instead, she reached behind
her, slowly unzipping the bit of cloth that separated us.  Her dress
slipped down, releasing the full, pale globes concealed within.  She didn't
waste time, hooking her panties with her thumbs and pulling them down to
the floor.  She kicked both garments away, standing before me in all her
glory.

   "Look at me Jack," my twin said, her eyes blazing.  "Just look at me."

   I gazed over every inch of her, taking in her fair beauty.  I had seen
her in varying states of undress before, but this.  This was magic.  I
stood with her, pulling her into me.  As our tongues snaked in each other's
mouths, I allowed my hands to wander, gliding over the skin of her back. 
Her hands reached for my waist, pulling my shirt up and over, forcing us to
break away for a moment as it stretched over my head.

   I smiled to myself as my jeans hit the floor, thankful for once that I
had not bothered with a belt.  I felt gooseflesh form on my backside,
realizing that my boxers had slid down as well.  I stepped out of the denim
and cotton, Jennifer gently pulling me toward the bed.

   Suddenly I was nervous.  I had no misgivings about what I wanted to do,
but I had certain concerns about my skill, or lack thereof.  I'd seen more
than my fair share of pornography since I'd discovered how to bypass my
parent's browser settings, but it served to intimidate more than educate.

   If Jennifer was nervous, she didn't show it.  I was certain my sister
was a virgin as well, but she certainly didn't seem anxious about it.  She
smiled warmly at me, beckoning me to join her.  I slinked over her,
catching her lips once again.  My anxiety began to fade as our bodies began
to warm to each other.  Emboldened, I began kissing my way down her neck,
trailing down her clavicle, down the swell of her left breast until finally
my lips brushed her nipple.

   I took it into my mouth, teasing it with my tongue and teeth. 
Jennifer's breath hitched, a deep moan reverberated through the room.  As I
continued my explorations, her breath became shallower and more ragged, and
every so often a faint, "Oh my God," would escape her lips.

   A warm slickness started to coat my lower abdomen, matting with the hair
on my stomach.  I smiled to myself, giddy that I was able to do this to
her. I continued my journey south, determined to explore Jennifer's body
further.

   I caught her scent as I made my way past her navel.  It was
intoxicating, yet strangely familiar.  I recalled a similar aroma on the
occasional sleepover.  Sometimes I'd wake up to hear Jennifer whimpering in
the dark.  I used to think it was bad dreams, but now I knew better.

   A tuft of course fur tickled my chin as I finally reached her sex.  Her
folds were glistening, radiating that intoxicating aroma that was starting
to fill the room.  I idly I wondered if she tasted as good as she smelled.

   I had no technique in mind.  I briefly considered replicating what I'd
seen in Biker Whores 7, but once again I suspected that porn wasn't the
most credible of sources.  Instead, I gently probed her sex with my tongue,
pretending I was making out with her, albeit with a different orifice.  The
slightly acidic taste took me by surprise at first, but I quickly grew to
appreciate it, noting that there was a sort of sweetness laced with the
tartness of her juices.

   Whatever I did, it worked.  Jennifer began to tense and buck, drawing my
head forcefully into her snatch.  I continued my efforts, lapping at her
folds.  I could have continued for hours, but as her body started to tense
up, she brought my chin up, prompting me to pause.

   "I need you Jack.  God, I need you now," Jennifer moaned.

   That was all the prompting I needed.  I slip back up, brushing her lips
against mine.  I wondered if she could taste her herself on me, but she
didn't seem to mind.  As we continued kissing, I felt the outside of her
folds press gently against my cock, coating it with her juices.

   I considered the implications of this, the breaking of this final
barrier.  These were uncharted waters we were sailing into, my sister and
I. There was no going back.

   I pulled back ever so slightly, needing to see her, to see all of her.
As I looked into her eyes, every fear and doubt I ever had about the two of
us was banished.  Trust and love were all I saw.

   Effortlessly I slid inside her.  Eventually I met resistance, but she
nodded, so I pressed further.  She hissed in pain, making me stop, but she
wrapped her arms around me and kissed me, urging me to continue.  I was
slow and careful, vigilant for the slightest indication that I should stop.
It never came.  I kissed her cheeks, her neck, and her mouth again and
again.

   "Faster," she cried, digging her nails into my back.  If it made a mark,
I didn't feel it.  I felt her muscles clench as I moved in and out of her
in long, slow strokes.  Instinct made up for inexperience.  She moved with
me, her breathing becoming labored, her eyes watering as she poised on the
brink.

   "Jennifer..." I whispered.

   My body moved against her, within her, in a rhythmic, timeless beat. 
Jennifer drew me in deep, and suddenly I felt the same sensation as
freefall as the whole world faded from view.  She strained against me,
wrapping her legs around my hips, rocking with every thrust.  I felt my own
orgasm begin to build, and I prayed I'd last long enough for the both of
us. She cried out as her body seized up, muscles clenched down around me,
keeping me inside her as my cock began to spasm.

   I felt more alive than I'd ever felt before.  I could hear the rain
cascading down on the sidewalk, feel the slickness of our sweat where our
skin met.  I saw the love and devotion in her eyes as this one last
terrible fear had been vanquished.  I braced himself on my elbows, and
gently brushing back her hair.  With that, Jennifer started to cry.

   Concern and dread flooded my veins.  "What's wrong?" I asked hesitantly,
"Are you okay?"

   She nodded, sniffling.

   "Jen?"

   She flung her arms around my neck, hugging me with all her might.  "I
love you so much," she choked.

   "Jesus, Sis.  Don't scare me like that," I said, smiling with relief.

   She laughed.  There were no more tears.

   We laid in bed together in silence for a while.  It wasn't awkward; we'd
spent too much of their lives together to be uncomfortable.  We simply
passed the time, reflecting on all the dismissed innuendos, charged
moments, and foreboding silences that led us to this point.  And then, of
course, there was the future to think about.

   "You have a girlfriend," Jennifer stated.  It was meant as fact, not
accusation.

   "Had.  Somehow, I don't think that's a problem anymore," I mused.

   "You're...welcome?" she smirked.  We shared a laugh.  It was fun, but we
were still dancing around the elephant.

   "You're my sister," I said quietly.

   "I know."

   "We'll have to be careful," I warned.

   "I know."

   "If anyone finds out about us, especially after tonight..."

   "Jack, I know.  Trust me, I've had plenty of time to imagine a
ridiculous number of nightmare scenarios, some of which involve actual
torches and pitchforks." Jennifer explained.

   "I always thought it'd be more like 'Law and Order: SVU' and less like
'Frankenstein.'" I replied thoughtfully.

   "Wouldn't stop our parents.  They'd kill us."

   "They'd kill me.  You'd have to live at home and go to bible college," I
corrected.

   "Somehow I don't think the 'daddy's girl' card is going to get me a
lighter sentence," my sister laughed.

   "You call that light?  I think I'd prefer the sweet release of death. 
You know they believe dinosaurs are a liberal conspiracy and that gay
marriage causes hurricanes, right?"

   "I'll keep that in mind."

   "So what's the plan?" I asked.

   "Well, for starters I should probably avoid jumping your bones at frat
parties," Jennifer joked.

   "I don't know, it worked out pretty well last time," I teased.

   Jennifer laughed.  "I'm not saying we can't be affectionate.  We've
always been pretty physical.  I think it'd be more suspicious if we were to
stop all of the sudden.  We just need to keep the PDA within reason."

   I nodded in agreement.  "You're right," I said.  "In the end, it doesn't
matter what people think.  It matters what they can prove.  So as long as
this doesn't end up on the web, I think we're good.  Speaking of which, you
did turn off the webcam, right?"

   Jennifer stiffened.  "Webcam?  What webcam?" she squealed, scanning the
room frantically.

   I tried my best to keep a neutral expression, but even my best poker
face was no match for my sister's scrutiny.  "Fuck you," she smirked,
hitting me over the head with a pillow.
   "Love you too."