I'm Not Me

Kiley knocked and came into my room a few minutes later. She was in her dark green bathrobe. For whatever reason, it looked like she'd put it on wrong, like she'd hiked the belt higher on her hips causing the fabric above it to poof out. "Okay," she said, "I had something done." She didn't elaborate.

"What? What is it, Kiley? Did you get a kick-ass tattoo that Mom would hate?"

She shook her head, sighed, and said, "Don't be embarrassed?"

What the hell?

Kiley pulled the shoulders of her bathrobe down. She was wearing a bikini top, and her breasts were significantly larger. Fucking big. Huge, actually.

My eyes must have bugged out, because half a second later, she covered herself and said, "Don't freak out!"

Blinking for a moment, I finally found words. "Does Mom know?"

Kiley nodded.

"Does Renee?"

"No."

"So, you--you got a boob job?" I asked in a whisper.

She nodded, explaining how she'd taken almost all of her savings from work during the last three years and used it to pay for one. "So, what do you think?" she finally asked.

"Uh--Kiley, I think that question violates some brother-sister rules."

"And you won't make an exception for your sister, Kiley?"

I said, " You know I wouldn't do many favors for Renee, but for you?" I thought about it for a moment. "I don't know. I'm not sure I'm supposed to compliment my sister's breasts."

"'Compliment,' eh?" she replied with a big smile. "So, you think they're good. They're not weird or misshapen or too big or anything?"

"From a brief glimpse over a bikini top, they're fine. You're good." I said that, but I was actually thinking they might be too big.

"Thank you. I like them."

"But, Kiley," I asked, "why?"

She looked at me as if I were a moron. "Are you kidding? If I'm going to be 280 pounds in five years, at least I want nice boobs."

"You're not--."

She cut me off. "I am. Just like grandma, just like Aunt Julie, just like Mom, and just like Renee. I'm going to get hugely fat, and I'm going to have to become a lesbian like Renee."

"What? What do you mean 'have to'? And Renee hates guys."

Kiley shook her head. "No."

Before she could add anything, I said, "Wait, are you saying you're a lesbian, too?"

"No, and Renee isn't either."

"What?" I responded, astonished.

"The only reason Renee hates guys is that they've been assholes to her for her entire life--kind of like me. Believe me, she's no lesbian. She may be in a lesbian relationship, but if anything--anything--she might be bi. But, I think that may be a reach, too. No, if Renee had any choice, she'd be with a man."

"Really?"

Kiley nodded. "So with these," she said, gesturing to her new breasts, "unlike Renee, I actually have a chance to maybe, maybe once in my life get laid before the only person that will like me for who I am is a lesbian as fat as I am going to be."

"I like you for who you are, Kiley."

"Yeah, but you're my brother. You have to."

"Not really. I don't really like Renee for who she is."

"What I mean," Kiley argued, "is I can't do things with my brother."

"No--."

"Oh!" Kiley suddenly burst. "That reminds me. Any more freaky stuff from the new neighbors?" Her eyes scanned out my window.

I said, "Oh, shit. Sit down. You've got to hear this." I told her about the cosplay and the lip kiss.

Kiley looked just as confused as I was. "How very strange," she remarked. "Are you sure on the lips? Because you can kiss and just miss the lips--you know, right on the side of the mouth."

"Pretty positive."

"Oh, my gosh," she said, looking out the window at their house. I took in her face in profile for a moment. She just looked great.

Some people misunderstand the tastes of men, I think. They assume everything has to do with looks when, in truth, it is almost always the combination of appearance and personality that attract us. Kiley would never be a model; I knew that, but she was so thoughtful and fun-loving that she didn't need a model's looks to be attractive.

I smiled. Shit, it made me happy to know she was happy.

Kiley gasped. "There they are! There they are!"

I looked. The light in the kitchen had come on, and there were Dewey and Deanna, still in their Trekkie regalia.

"The cosplay!" Kiley almost shouted. "There it is! Oh, my gosh!"

"It's strange."

"She looks so cute--the green lady!" Kiley spun to me. "Is she hot? Is he?"

"You'll have to be the judge of him, but she's okay--and pretty cute in green."

Kiley laughed.

I added, "They're really nice people. Kinda goofy. Kinda nerdy, but super nice."

Still looking at me, Kiley said, "Except that they're twins who play grab-ass and kiss on the lips."

"Yeah," I said. "I guess there is that."

Watching the Lawrence house, Kiley's hand covered her mouth in a flash. Her eyes exploded open.

I looked.

They were kissing. No-shit kissing, not pecking. Captain Kirk and the Green Woman were making out, only these two were twin siblings.

"What in the fuck?" I whispered.

A burst of nervous laughter escaped Kiley.

I ran over and shut off the light in my room. Kiley's eyes were glued to the Lawrences. She muttered, "Good idea, Jay." I rejoined her on my bed.

We watched.

They broke the kiss and spoke to one another excitedly. It looked like Dewey was explaining something and Deanna smiled and nodded.

"What are they--," Kiley began.

Suddenly, Deanna began to run away from Dewey. He reached out and seized her hand. He seemed to yank her against his body. Then, he took the back of her head in his hand, put his arm around her waist, and kissed her deeply.

There was something contrived about the whole thing. The kiss reminded me of kisses in really old movies--overly dramatic and super-assertive by the guy. "They're playacting," I whispered.

"Oh, my gosh."

With that same male bravado, Dewey broke the kiss and seized Deanna by the arms. He said something to her. Deanna shook her head dramatically, violently. Dewey re-gripped her arms and shook her once. He commanded something.

"It must be like the tv show," Kiley whispered.

Deanna looked down. In her role, she appeared defeated. She went to her knees and looked up at him. Dewey said something. Deanna shook her head. Dewey waited.

Deanna's hands reached for Dewey's pants.

"I don't think this was ever on the tv show, Kiley."

"Is she--? She's not going to--."

"Holy fucking--," I whispered.

"Oh, my fucking gosh."

Deanna had reached into Dewey's black trousers, pulled out his half-hard cock, and begun to suck it.

"They're not twins," Deanna said. "They're not brother and sister. It's impossible."

Like Kiley, my eyes were riveted to the action in the Lawrence's kitchen. Our view was from the side. There was no doubt about what was happening in there, and I told Kiley there was no doubt they were siblings. "He told me," I said, "they're twins. Shit, they even look alike. Just--just not when they're all costumed up."

"She is sucking her brother's dick. I am watching a woman suck her brother's dick. This is insane."

Deanna stared up at Dewey while her lips towed back and forth. Dewey alternately watched her perform and kicked his head back in satisfaction.

"Why am I watching this?" Kiley uttered. "Why am I not revolted?" I felt her turn to me. "Aren't you?"

I swallowed and shook my head.

Dewey's hand went behind Deanna's head, and he guided her deep. He held her there until Deanna put her hands on his thighs and pushed herself away.

Kiley murmured, "It's actually kind of--."

"Fucking sexy," I said.

"--fucking hot," Kiley finished.

Without warning, Deanna rose from her knees and tried to dash away from Dewey. He seized her arm, hauled her back, and drew his hand back as if to slap her. Deanna threw up her arms to protect her face. Dewey stopped himself. Lowering his hand, he reached out, took Deanna's ragged dress in his hands, and tore it off of her body in one swift ripping motion.

Deanna's entire body was green; she had gone all out. There was no bra, but she did have on very skimpy black panties. She tried to cover her body with her arms and hands.

"She painted her tits," Kiley uttered with a small giggle.

Pursuing Deanna slowly, Dewey backed her into the kitchen table. He lifted her by the waist and sat her on top of it. Snaking his hands under her ass, he yanked off her panties. He shoved her on her back. Deanna lay prostrate on the kitchen table. Dewey spread her legs and bent between Deanna's knees. She craned her head toward him, shaking it and saying something desperate.

Dewey's face plummeted between her thighs.

Beside me, Kiley gasped.

We watched Deanna slide a hand into Dewey's hair like a person might feel the fur of a beautiful, fearsome animal. Her other hand came up and began stroking one of her breasts. In a few moments, Deanna, like her brother, was so lost in pleasure that she threw her head back.

I swallowed and adjusted my hard-on in my shorts.

Kiley noticed the movement, but she didn't say anything.

Dewey ate his sister's pussy for several minutes. If Kiley and I had been closer, right at the sliding glass door of their kitchen, say, we would have heard Deanna's moans. Her jaw was open. Her chest rose and fell, and in each fall, there was a pause as if she were giving voice to her ecstasy.

"Holy shit," I whispered.

"She's so--so sensual and responsive," Kiley said.

I nodded. That's exactly what it was. Watching Deanna, I decided I wanted the girl whose pussy I licked to appreciate it the way Deanna did.

"I don't think," Kiley added, "she's acting anymore."

I shook my head.

Dewey's face came up. It was smudged with green. It should have been uproariously funny, but neither Kiley nor I made a sound.

He stood up. Seizing Deanna's ankles, he tugged her to the table's edge. Releasing her legs and clutching her hips, he rolled her onto her stomach. Bent in half over the kitchen table, Deanna peered back over her shoulder, watching Dewey grope her ass. Then, he smacked it.

We knew he started fucking her when Deanna's body flinched and her face shot straight forward. Even from thirty yards away, it was easy to see her gaping mouth and tightly closed eyes.

I turned to Kiley and she to me, and then I saw her phone. It was in her right hand, camera pointed at the action, zoomed in.

"You're recording this?"

She checked her screen and nodded at me.

"Since when?"

"Blowjob," she said with a huge grin.

I forgot about the camera. I forgot about the Lawrences. I stared at Kiley like I'd never seen her before.

"What?" she asked with that same smile.

I blinked. My head cleared up, and I slowly shook it, saying, "Nothing."

"Jay, what? Why were you looking at me that way?"

Again, I shook my head. Then, I turned back to watch Dewey and Deanna.

Since he'd gotten her on the table our view was slightly askew. Deanna's head was closest to us; Dewey's body farthest, but we had plenty enough angle to see one of Deanna's breasts squashed into the table and the side of her bare green ass.

"I think he's going to cum," Kiley whispered urgently.

I looked at Dewey, and, yeah, he was hitting his peak. He slammed into his sister. Deanna's body took each blow, and she seemed to be meeting him, thrust for thrust. Her face was a picture of satisfaction so acute as to be painful. Fuck, it was gorgeous.

Dewey froze, half bent over his sister.

"He came. He just came in her," Kiley voiced.

A few seconds later, his body went limp over hers. They laid there like that, Dewey stacked on Deanna, both gasping.

"I think she came, too," I said.

"Oh, yeah. She did." Kiley replied with quiet definitiveness.

Dewey kissed Deanna's back several times, and then he pushed himself up. Reaching out, he helped her to her feet. As Deanna rose, she tucked a hand between her legs.

"Oh, my gosh," Kiley uttered, "she's making sure his cum doesn't spill all over the floor."

Deanna kissed his lips and threw her arm tightly around Dewey. He held her gently, and they swayed there, like lovers dancing. He cradled her face and kissed her cheek, forehead, and lips. Deanna rested her head on his chest.

"She--she--," I began.

"She loves him," Kiley finished for me.

Nodding, I whispered, "They're in love."

When the little dance ended, Dewey and Deanna walked hand-in-hand out of the kitchen into the darkness.

Kiley shut off her phone.

I grabbed a pillow and held it on my lap before sitting back against my headboard and whispering, "Holy shit."

At the foot of my bed, Kiley turned away from the window and sat cross-legged in front of me. She said, "We can't ever tell a single soul about this, you know."

"Yeah. No way."

Then, her eyes bent to the pillow I clutched to my body.

I said, "I'm sorry, Kiley, but I am like a baseball bat down there right now, and I don't want to embarrass you or me."

The dim light through the window illuminated a smile. She said, "To tell the truth, I'm going to have to change my panties--wait, I'm still in my bikini. I'm going to have to--well, you know."

We laughed quietly. Then, neither of us spoke. We both turned away from each other. A few seconds passed before we looked at one another again.

Kiley said, "Can I ask you something personal?"

"Yeah."

"Are you going to--to help yourself tonight?"

"I think I almost have to. You?"

"Mm-hmm."

"You going to watch the video?" I asked.

"Yeah. Probably some."

I wanted to know which parts, but I wanted to see the video even more. "Send me a copy?"

"Tomorrow maybe. The file is going to be--."

"Yeah. Huge. I can wait. It's pretty fresh in my memory."

Kiley slid off my bed. "Well," she said, "I hope you--you have a nice night."

"You, too."

She giggled briefly, saying, "I think we both will." She walked toward my door, and I didn't want her to leave.

"Kiley?"

She stopped and turned.

The words filled my mouth and slipped out before I could even stop them. "Will you leave me your bikini bottoms?"

She didn't move or speak.

"I mean, you have the video and all, and I--I just thought it might be nice to be able to--to smell a woman while I was--you know."

"You want my bikini bottoms?" she asked with a subtle emphasis on "my," as if a man wanting to have anything to do with her pussy were not possible.

"May I, please?"

A tiny sound escaped her. It was sexy and sad and beautiful all at the same time. She cleared her throat the second it ended, and she said, "Okay."

I watched her silhouette reach under her robe and pull down those bottoms. She stepped out of them, picked them up, and walked to me.

Holding the bottoms just out of reach, she said, "Will you maybe show me the tent you pitched?"

"Really?"

She nodded.

I shrugged and pulled the pillow away.

She said, "I can't see anything."

A beat passed while my mind took hold of those words. Immediately, we both started laughing. She and I slapped our hands over our mouths to muffle the outbursts. The humor was so crippling for Kiley that she had to lean on my bed to stop herself from falling to the floor.

After several subsequent fresh eruptions of laughter, Kiley settled enough to tell me she had meant that it was too dark to see.

Chuckling, I said, "I know what you meant, Kiley." I rose and walked on my knees across the bed to the window, giving her a side silhouette of the hard-on struggling to burst from my shorts.

Any indication of more laughter ended. She looked, and she uttered, "Wow. Okay." She handed me her bottoms and said, "Enjoy."

"I will."

She giggled

On her way to the door, I asked her to lock it, and she laughed some more. Pushing the button on the knob, she said, "Good night, Jay." She gave me a small finger wave.

"Good night, Kylie, and welcome home."

She grinned and closed the door.

Heart racing, stomach churning with nervous energy, I brought the bottoms to my face. A stream of curse words and oaths fell from me like a waterfall.

It was pussy--actual live pussy on those bottoms. It wasn't that it smelled good; it was that it smelled like sex, female sex, and that fragrance soared far higher than "good." The aroma made me feel alive and strong.

I should wear these on my face and go lift weights, I thought with a smile.

But there was something else to that smell. It made the moment darkly thrilling and illicit in the most unexpected, unconscionable way. This was my sister's pussy. I was supposed to chuck those bottoms across the room and gag.

But, I didn't. I dragged my tongue over the crotch.

Less than five seconds later, my cock was outside of my shorts and Kiley's bikini bottoms were draped over it so that the head of my erection pocked directly into the crotch. I wanted those fluids on my penis. I needed my cock to be where her pussy had been.

I stroked myself. In mere seconds, I was peaking. Through the darkness, my eyes fixed upon those bottoms, and the final thrill that sent me over was the idea that my cum would mix with Kiley's fluids on her bikini bottoms.

After I drew her swimsuit away, I turned on my nightlight. The crotch was a grisly murder scene of semen. I fucking loved it. I dropped them beside my bed and collapsed, reeling from the perfection of it.

After a quick wash and a piss, I stopped at Kiley's door to listen. There was nothing.

Or was there? Had I heard a moan? A light snapped into my peripheral vision from Mom's room. I quickly stepped through my door, closed it behind me, and slid into bed.

Maybe, I thought, Kiley had been fingering herself in there. Damn.

As sleep drew nearer, it dawned upon me that when I masturbated, I never once thought of the show that Deanna and Dewey had put on for us. I had only thought of my sister's pussy.

***

I woke up to faint knocking. It was 6:47--not Mom.

"Yeah?"

Kiley quietly stepped into the room with a sympathetic smile. "I'm sorry to wake you."

Yawning, I shook my head that it was no big deal.

"Good night?" she asked with a sneaky grin.

I smiled, remembering. "Yeah. You?"

She nodded enthusiastically.

Both of us started laughing quietly. She said, "I came by to--oh." Her eyes had spotted something on the floor. "There they are."

Her bottoms, I realized.

She was stepping toward the bed and bending down to grab them.

"Wait," I said, sitting up.

She stopped.

"I--uh--I probably need to wash them."

Kiley covered her mouth. Her eyes went wide.

I nodded sheepishly.

Peeling away her hand just enough to reveal her lips, she whispered, "You came on them?"

"Sorry."

"Oh, my gosh," she said, squatting beside them on the floor and staring down. A moment later, her hand gingerly reached for them. Her thumb and index finger extended to pluck them up.

"Kiley, you may not want to--."

She pinched an edge and flipped them. They landed right side out on the seat.

"I'll pay you back," I offered. "You can buy new ones."

She flipped them on their front the same way.

"Kiley?"

"I don't see anything," she remarked.

I cringed, muttering, "It's kind of on the inside."

She looked at me, surprised. Then, she pinched the waistband to draw them open.

I eased back on the bed with a silent sigh; I didn't want to see.

"Oh, my gosh," she whispered.

"I'm sorry."

"I'll just take them," she said.

"No. It's my fault. I'll--."

"I already have a wash to do," she explained. "I've got this."

"Geez, Kiley. You sure?"

She nodded, rising with the suit in her fingers.

"Watch the video?" I asked.

"I haven't. Not yet."

I blinked at her. The question was implied.

She grinned, saying, "Memories of the night were all I needed."

I smiled.

She spun girlishly and left, blowing me a kiss as she closed the door.

That was new.

***