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From: "dr.unlucky@gmail.com" <dr.unlucky@gmail.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} The Other Malone Sister (MF)
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Date: Sun, 10 Sep 2006 02:10:02 -0400
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The Other Malone Sister By Dr Unlucky

   They broke up on the train.

   Trains push his memories to the surface.  All the trips into the country
as a child.  All the trees passing by, leaves changing to red and gold.

   The city fades fast, faster then you can imagine.  It is so small
compared to the stretches of country to the Jersey Shore, to Upstate, to
Boston and Maryland and DC.

   Looking at Maggie, he could see her fighting her childhood memories.  At
least he wanted to think she was fighting them, hoping they were there to
be fought.  She had her nose in a notebook, making a list of things to do.

   They were going to Maggie's parents' house because Maggie's father was
sick.  He had a heart attack, but it looked like he was going to be
alright. She had a big Irish family and it was expected that a good
daughter would come home in a time like this.  So Maggie and her boyfriend
Jack got on a train from New York to Virginia.

   Maggie and Jack had been living together for three years.  They had been
dating for four and known each other since college six years ago.  She was
going for her BA in Fine Arts and he was going for his Masters in English
back then.

   She had their life planned out.  She had a good steady job and he did
freelance work.  They had a nice apartment, which he loved, but she wanted
to move out to the country soon.  She wanted to get married, but he hadn't
asked her yet.  She had plans and he wasn't playing along.  She didn't
break up with him because she had already put too much time into him.  He
didn't break up with her because he was lazy and didn't like confrontation.

   There was something about the trip that started pushing Jack's buttons
from the start.  They were taking the train out to her parents' house and
there was this air of expectance.  She expected him to go, to be excited,
to ask her to marry him, to want kids, to want a better job...  but none of
that was going to happen and both of them were starting to realize it.

   3/4 of the way there after arguing over signing another lease for the
apartment she said "If you don't want to grow as a couple then maybe we
should just break up."

   It wasn't a threat, it was something that people said in the heat of the
moment, but it just pushed Jack over the edge.

   "Yeah.  We should.  This relationship is a joke.  You don't love me; you
just need someone to help you afford a mortgage."

   And she cracked.  She cried.  There was no putting things back together.

   For the next hour they agreed on things.  Jack would be nice for the
three day weekend with Maggie's parents.  They would take care of the
breakup when they got back.  And then like a switch when they got to their
stop Maggie fixed her makeup and was back to herself.

   *

   They entered the big old house just after 4pm.  It was an old southern
house with white pillars outside and a big porch and a huge white door.

   They entered to find silence and emptiness.  Walking up the staircase
they came to a long hall.  Pictures hung along the walls, old school
pictures of Maggie and her sisters Molly and Megan.  Three smiling girls
with white skin and black hair and matching skirts and sweaters.  Three
princesses at Halloween.  Three girls on horses.

   Jack followed Maggie as she navigated pass a dozen doors and finally
found her old room.  Jack was a stranger in this place.  He was not a
Malone.

   Maggie's room was white walled, filled with 2-foot boxes in one corner,
an uncomfortable looking bed made up with yellow sheets and a pink and
yellow quilt.  One wall was all white bookshelves, but they were only a
quarter filled.  On one wall hung a large framed sketch of Maggie.  He
remembered her sitting in front of the mirror, sketching herself for her
final project in still life, back in college.

   In that frame was Maggie, the girl.  Quiet in class, but boisterous when
she was excited.  Level headed, list making, but deep down an artist.  Deep
down filled with the same curiosity that Jack was filled with.  Curiosity
about books, history, art...  and sex.  The more he remember their college
years the more he realize that the Maggie he knew was gone.

   When did she start longing for mediocre satisfaction?  When did she stop
needing to explore and started needing a bigger house, a better job, some
mythical security she constantly talked about.  When did she put her paints
and her charcoal and her pads and canvas in her parents' basement to go
untouched?

   The same time she started thinking of sex as a duty and rolling her eyes
at the mere mention of sexual adventure.  Sex was just relieving them both
of some energy or maybe a way for her to get him to leave her alone so she
could get enough sleep to wake up at 5 in the morning to jog.

   She sighed and put her bags down.

   "Listen, you can stay here.  I will go to the hospital.  Then everyone
will come back for dinner.  I know you don't want to be here...  but let's
just do this and then we can get back and..." she just trailed off.  A horn
honked outside and she looked out the window.

   "That's my aunt.  Unpack, ok?"

   Jack nodded.  "I like your family.  This weekend will be fine.  Go check
on your father, make sure he is alright."

   She looked at him, unsure if a hug was still ok.  Then she just turned
around and left.

   *

   He unpacked, he looked around.  He ended up on the bed, drifting off
into a nap.  The train ride, the fight, all of it melted away.

   When he awoke in darkness.  He could hear people downstairs and smell
the warm homey smells of chicken and potatoes.

   He saw movement, the door opened and closed.

   "Hey.  You ok?  Sorry I fell asleep...  the fight and everything..."

   "I don't think your talking to the right Malone girl, mister."

   The light came on and that's when he found out Maggie's little sister
grew up.

   She was Maggie, but different.  Shorter, but only slightly.  Bustier, a
little more hip, a little more ass.  Same nose, same ears, fuller lips. 
Her eyes were blue, while Maggie's where green.

   "Molly."

   "That's me."

   The last time he saw her it was about four years ago, she had just
turned fifteen.  Sitting up fully he couldn't quiet comprehend that it was
the same person.  Molly the Mole, skinned knee tomboy who made gagging
sounds if she saw him kissing her sister.

   The first thing he noticed was a red and black nautical star tattoo
between her neck and her breasts, half hidden by her white cotton tank top.
Half perfect black and red ink on her white skin, half dark shadow under
the thin cotton.

   "Nice ink."

   She squirmed under his eyes.  "Thanks." Her arms came up and she folded
them over her breasts.  She was trying not to smile.

   "So you two having a fight?"

   "Um.  No.  Not really.  Just an argument.  Sort of." he knew he had to
look away from her, but he couldn't.  It was like looking at all the
missing parts of Maggie, melted into a younger curvier tighter form.  He
walked over to the window and looked out at the greens and the grays.

   She came into the room and walked to the bookshelf, looking at the
remaining books, letting her finger drift over the spines.

   "I was wondering what you would look like now," she said.  He could hear
the smile in her voice.

   "Oh?  Do he look different?"

   He looked over to her and she nodded.  "You look old, but basically the
same.  You look better with your hair short.  Long hair looked pretty dumb
long.  Plus those glasses are better, the dark frames.  You're still ugly,
though." There was the smile, the wicked brat smile.  In those eyes was
pure curiosity.

   "I always thought you had a crush on me."

   She let out a laugh, but she blushed.

   "You wish." she said, but eyed him and smiled.

   He looked at her from the side now.  It was like a lecture on the
effects of puberty.  At fifteen she was all legs and arms and wild nervous
energy.  At nineteen she was all hips and tits and calm sultry sex.

   He noticed other tattoos, one on her wrist, this one just a black star.
He could see the shadow of something on her back, it was large and not one
of those little designs girls get right at their tailbone, this was long
and it came up from around her butt to the middle of her back.

   He stood up and moved closer to her, slowly and she tensed.  She was
still facing the books, pretending not to be curious about what he was
going to do next.  He walked behind her, moved closer until he was two feet
away.  He looked at the books, he looked at her neck, he looked at her eye
as she turned her head to look at him.

   "You got a tattoo on your back, too?"

   She nodded, still facing her body away from him, but looking at him from
over her shoulder.

   He moved in and put his hands on her waist.  She froze.  He touched the
edges of her thin shirt.

   "Can I see?"

   She swallowed and nodded.  Their eyes met.  Curiosity, lust.

   He pulled up her shirt slowly and saw that there where two jet black
f-hole, like the ones on a violin or cello.  It was a lot of ink, a lot of
time.  He touched the edge of it and he could feel raised scarred skin.

   Her back was smooth and her ass curved out from just below his hand.

   "Wow.  You got all this done in the last year?"

   She moved forward, pulling her shirt out of his grip.

   "Yeah.  I was dating a tattoo artist for a while."

   He took her hand and looked at the tattoo on her wrist.

   "Did they hurt?"

   She smile.  "That's the best part."

   A voice from downstairs said "Kids...  dinner."

   *

   Dinner was huge and southern.  Jack had forgotten that people ate like
that.  Fried chicken and mashed potatoes, greens and a million other
things. Everyone was so busy catching up with Maggie and Molly, who had
been off at Art School and also with Maggie's older sister who had just had
twins that no one really bothered talking to Jack, which was just the way
he liked it.

   Molly watched him though.  Watched him like a cat watches a bird.  It
was a very different look then the fifteen year old awkward kid gave him
four years ago.

   When it was over Maggie said goodnight to all and went upstairs with
Jack, got undressed without looking at him and then went to bed.

   Jack laid there, uncomfortable because of the small bed and not really
wanting to be too close to Maggie.  He found himself thinking of Molly
every time he closed his eyes.  The way she looked in that white tank top,
tough and sexy.  He wanted to know what those tattoos looked like up close.
What it felt like to trace them with his tongue.

   Thoughts like that and the moonlight coming in from the window kept him
up half the night.  It seemed like only minutes, but the next time he
opened his eyes it was morning.  He awoke to feel the familiar sensation of
Maggie next to him.  He had turned around to face her in the night and now
he was spooning her, with his arm around her.

   She felt warm, she smelt good.  Her ass against him made him stir
inside. Without really realizing, his hand came up to cup her breast.  It
was such a natural thing.

   She sighed and pushes his arm away.

   "Yeah, right." She said with disgust.

   She sat up and climbed over him.

   "Go back to bed, I'm taking a shower.  Everyone is going to go to church
in an hour.  I know you don't want to do that, so I'll probably see you at
lunch."

   She looked him in the eyes.

   "Shave, ok?"

   He nodded.  He was still hard under the warm sheets.  Memories, warm
blanket comfort and the smell of her hair on the pillow made his mind swim.
If he just relaxed he could fall back asleep.  And then there was nothing.

   *

   He awoke to the sound of the door closing.

   The room was too bright, the sun coming in through the half opened
curtains.  He was groggy, as only waking up from oversleeping can make you.
The room was a dull white blur, then the blinds were closed and the
curtains pulled shut so that the light filtered through the rust colored
fabric, making the room dull yellow and red.

   Then Maggie slipped into bed.  Her arms around him, her lips on his
neck. He pushed her hair back and kissed her.  Her lips felt soft, there
was some sweet lip gloss...  and then he opened his eyes wider and saw who
was really in bed with him.

   There was Molly.  There was Molly in her white tank top.

   "Hello Mister Bedhead."

   He tried to comprehend what was going on.

   Then Molly's lips are on his again and he gets the rush of the taste of
a new mouth.  Then Molly squirming and turning around and her soft round
ass is against him.  His arms are around her and they're spooning.  His
mouth is on her neck and his hands are on her hips.

   It is an interesting thing when you are so used to one person's body,
your hands remember where to go on them, your body understands how you are
supposed to fit together, but now he was lost in this new geography.  Her
lips were too hot and soft, her kisses were too rough, her breasts too big,
too heavy, too perfect.

   Her hips flared out, giving him something to really hold on to when he
pulled her against him.  Her ass was soft and cool and when he hooked his
fingers into the sides of her panties and pulled them down, he slipped
right between her cheeks and it was perfection.  *******

   She moved her head back as he moved forward and he was lost in her kiss
again.  She arched her whole body against him and her lips were on his ear,
sucking, then biting, then whispering.

   "Do you want to fuck me?"

   Jack grunted and pulled at her hips roughly.  His cock touching wetness
and heat as it rubbed between her legs.

   "You have to say it.  I like to hear it."

   Her voice was steady, but wanton.  It was new, not the silent simple sex
Jack was used to.  Jack liked this.

   "Damn," he groaned into her neck.  "I want to fuck you...  so badly."

   His hand squeezed her breast once more and then moved down to between
her legs.  He groaned again when he felt smoothness where he expected
coarse hair.  Then his fingers felt wet heat.  Silk softness, perfect folds
that made him growl.

   As his finger passed over her lips and one finger slipped into her she
pushed her ass back against him.

   "I want you to go down on me." She gasped, pushing his hand away and
laying on her back.

   Jack looked down at her, her face was red and a red blush ran down her
neck and on her chest where his unshaven face rubbed against her.  He went
to push her shirt off, but instead smiled.

   "Take off your shirt.  I want to see your tits."

   She smiled wickedly and pulled off her shirt and then unhooked her bra
and took that off.

   He saw that red and black star on her chest and lower down another
tattoo...  a heart on fire with a gold crown above it, right over her
heart.

   He moved until he was kneeling between her open legs, then he moved down
and kissed her neck again, then traced his tongue around the slightly
raised thick black lines of each tattoo on her chest.  She arched her hips
and her breath caught.

   He kissed down her chest and stomach until he got between her legs.  By
now she was growling and purring.

   One lick and he was addicted.  Her body moved like a snake as he licked
at her and she whined and gasped.

   "More..  fuck.  Make me come."

   He licked her lips teasing and bit the tight skin of her thigh, then he
moved in circling her clit and flicking it and he moved one hand up to slip
one finger into her.

   That was all it took.  Fucking her with his finger and licking her made
her body buck and made her grab the pillow behind her and squeeze it as she
came hard.

   Jack sat up, watching her come down form her amazing orgasm.  He had
never seen a woman come that hard.  Maggie took a half an hour of work.. 
sometimes even a vibrator.

   She smiled and looked into his eyes and then turned to look at the
clock.

   "Fuck, we only have 20 more minutes..."

   She pushed him away and stood up, looking at him wickedly.

   "I guess I got to make you come fast...  stand up."

   He did and she kissed him hard, licking his bottom lip and tasting
herself on him.

   "What get's you off?  You want to fuck me from behind?  Want me to get
ontop and ride you?  I want to make you get off hard." She said all these
things into his ear as she reached down and gripped his cock tightly.

   Really, he didn't even know.  He was so used to getting what ever sad
sex Maggie would give him he didn't know what he really want.  He had never
been with someone so forward.

   "You like that this is dirty?  That my sister could come home any
minute?" She whispered, jerking him off.

   He gasped.

   "You like that I am fucking 10 years younger then you?"

   He grunted.

   "You want me to be a little girl for you?  I can bend over and you can
fuck me?"

   She turned in a flash and kneeled down, taking the head of his cock in
her mouth.  She sucked and licked around the head.

   "Want me to be your little girl and you can be my daddy?"

   Then she sucked half of his cock.

   "Fuck yes."

   All thought disappeared.  She broke every rule her sister set in bed. 
She was like a wet, writhing, perfect id of sex.

   She stood up and then leaned over the bed, sticking her ass up in the
air.

   "Come on...  fuck me daddy.  Be my good daddy and fuck me.  I'm so
fucking bad...  I'm a slut...  fuck me..."

   And then he was looking down at her back with the tattoos that looked
like a cello and she was groaning and then he was inside of her.  And it
was tight wet perfection.

   "Fuck me daddy.  Fuck me daddy.  Fuck me daddy." She whispered it over
and over, like a mantra.

   It took seconds for him to come.  It was the most violent, mind numbing,
powerful orgasm he could remember.  He almost fell down, his knees went so
week.

   He collapsed on the bed, hardly away that she had laid down and started
fingering hefself.

   "Fuck...  daddy...  mmm..."

   Jack turned and weakly kissed her nipple, wanting her to get off one
more time.

   "Bite it hard." She begged.

   He bit it, reaching up and squeezing her other tit.  Then he moved up to
her ear and whispered.

   "Come for me...  be daddy's little slut..."

   And she came, loud against him.

   And that's when the door opened.

   END

   This story is being released under a Creative Commons Attribution Non
Commercial 2.5 License.  You may remix, tweak, and build upon this work
non-commercially, and although new works must acknowledge Dr.Unlucky and be
non-commercial.
   dr.  unlucky email: dr.unlucky@gmail.com blog: unlucky.blogsome.com 

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