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Same Old, Same Old

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I’m going to tell you this. I’m going to tell you all of it. This is my story. My sister’s and mine.

At 21, I was well aware that I knew very little about how life really worked. I spent my time in school and various jobs where I consistently managed to get myself fired after no more than three months. I had read a great many books, so I knew a cursory amount of what writers wished to tell me. I watched TV, and so I had a rudimentary and oft times melodramatic sense of relationships and the human condition. Five years older and I can see this as clearly as I did then.

I tell this to illustrate that I was well aware that I was by no means perfect or even all that far ahead of the game. Ironically, this led me to believe that I was far superior to most people my age. However, I was, and still am, also heavy with problems that, while of my own creation, nevertheless sat me in hot water day after day.

As with most things between my sister and me, this all started with an argument. From the time we could reason, and therefore choose to abandon reason, we have argued and fought over everything. Was I the instigator in most of these arguments? Surely.

We had been fighting for seven hours straight. It was a new record. I had forgotten what the original point was from early in the afternoon, but it didn’t matter as our arguments cascaded from one contention to another. We ended up arguing about CD’s. Hers and mine. We had everything piled in a mammoth stack on her bed and were separating them. I will mention that she had fully six CD’s more of mine than I had of hers.

This began a new argument about boundaries. My room and her room. I forbade her to come in my room and she did the same. I came at her with some unfortunate words. Beth snapped her mouth shut as though she’d been slapped. She then punched me in the arm. It was entirely laughable.

Beth is of average size. She watched her diet, exercised regularly, and as a result, was quite fit. Nevertheless, she’s a girl. Say what you will. She’s a girl. I have always been much bigger than she was. However, to say I am a big beast of a guy is a bit inaccurate. I’m the smart one when I’m out with friends, and I’m the one the girls all like. But I’m not a bruiser.

“Keep it up,” I told her. “Keep it up and I’ll give it right back.” The thing was, she looked sorry. I couldn’t figure it. We engaged in hellacious arguments, and she gave as good as she got. However, afterward, she always looked sorry.

But that time, as sorry as she was, she was amped up. After seven hours of abuse, she snapped. She threw her little fist out and I moved, just in time. I snatched her up in my arms holding her still.

“Let go!” She squirmed, kicked, and thrashed her head trying to pull free. Her arms were trapped at her sides and her sweet breath was panting hot onto my face.

“Not until you calm down.”

“I’ll scream,” she said flatly. Her bare feet dangled a few inches off the floor.

“You gonna hit me?”

“No.” Such a liar. I could see it in her eyes.

“You’re just a little child Bethany.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Little Bethany getting angry?” I squeezed her tighter. It’s amazing the pain one will inflict on a sibling that one would never inflict upon another person, let alone a girl.

“Ahh! Stop it!”

“You gonna hit me?”

“Let go!” Our house had a strangely intense kind of soundproofing from floor to floor. Put our rooms on the other side of the house in addition to the entire foot of floor, insulation, and the ceiling below us and we may as well have lived in the next state.

“Matt!” she cried in frustration, trying to get free.

“You gonna hit me?” I squeezed harder. “What’s the matter?” I shook her a little.

“Let…” she struggled, shaking against me, “…go!

“No.”

“Matt!” she screamed right at me. Opened her mouth and just unloaded. We were both breathing hard. Her breasts pressed tight against me. Her body was warm and suddenly the most interesting thing in the room.

We were both heaving and breathing hard. She seemed to relax a little. Less defensive. Her green eyes were wide and blazing.

I leaned in a bit and inhaled slowly. I could smell the sweat on her skin. Salty. She pulled back sharply and surprised. I looked at her. Her short brown hair was wild and tangled on top. Her face was flushed. She breathed through her nose and I could feel the warm air hit my neck in short bursts.

I never realized that women could smell so exciting. That I was keyed-up and holding her that tight didn’t help. I kissed her neck. Tasted her. She lifted her head and said nothing. I wondered how long I’d wanted that.

I moved up to her jaw, so smooth and warm. Her lips tasted like peaches. We were kissing. I didn’t remember putting her down, but we were on her bed, touching each other and trying our best to suck out each other’s tongues.

I never thought about how wrong it was. I was pulling her shirt over her head, squeezing her tits and running my hands over her pendik escort firm little body. The minutes ran together. Her hands were under my shirt, running over my chest and stomach.

I popped the button on her jeans trying to get them off. She scrambled back up the mattress, knocking the CD’s to the floor. She kicked her legs trying to pull her feet out of the tight denim.

She was pulling the small red panties down her hips and over her legs as I frantically pulled off my clothes. Any qualms we may have had were lost in the frenzy of lust and heated excitement.

Her eyes never left mine. My cock sprang up as I threw off my shorts. I crawled up the bed, pushing her legs open. She laid back and grabbed the sheets in her fingers.

I pushed inside her, making both of us groan and pant even harder. She wasn’t a virgin but she was tight as could be. I wanted to ask her whom she had fucked. All I could do was fuck in and out of her. There was nothing sweet about it. She was loud and bucked against me, and I leaned over her like a madman, fucking my sister.

The thing was, all we could do was look each other in the eyes. If we looked away, it would have been over. I stared into her bright green eyes, watching her pupils expand in the dim light and in her arousal, and I fucked her until I was grinding my teeth as a shaking orgasm racked through me, coming right up from my God damned toes. She was holding onto me and coming down from her own. I felt the first spurt rising up my dick and she bit her lip, almost whining as I pulled out and shot the rest of it onto her, sending stripes of cum all over her chest and belly. I didn’t want to be inside her.

She took a deep breath and laid back, her hips still moved as her legs stretched out flat.

We finally looked away. This was as bad as a thing got. This was something that couldn’t happen. This was the worst kind of thing.

She slid her legs around me, as I sat there with my hands on my knees catching my breath. Beth moved carefully, trying not to let my cum slide off her tight body. It pooled in the small creases as she bent forward. Her small breasts were almost pointed. A young woman, and she had breasts like a 14 year-old. All I could see was bright white cum, like rushed graffiti on her lightly tanned skin.

She looked uncertain. Her eyes flicked to mine and then down in shame as she walked carefully to her bathroom. I crawled back off her bed, twisting the comforter with my knees as I moved backwards. I felt a few drops of cum dribble to my thighs as I went to my room, stopping only to grab my clothes.

I locked the door behind me, looking for something to clean off with. There was a gurgling from the sink in the small half-bath off the back of my room. She was done with the water. I pissed, not quite enjoying the familiar post-fuck urination I usually enjoyed.

Drying off with a dirty hand towel, I climbed into bed and shut off the light.

“Matt? Matthew?” She was at my door, knocking lightly. Tapping, really. I ignored her.

“Matt?” She was still there. Whispering. She’d been screaming at me 30 minutes earlier, but suddenly she was whispering. I turned on my stereo. Played the CD in the tray. It was the one that made me think of the CD I couldn’t find. The one that started the whole thing about getting my CD’s back from her room.

It was kind of a stupid disc. But I wanted to play it loud. I pressed the top button on my remote, watching the blue display show the climbing volume number.

“Matt?” I could still hear her. Louder. I think she kept knocking. She might have been crying, but I really couldn’t tell. I fell asleep when the CD was on it’s second repeat.

* * * * *

The next day, waking up to that stupid CD, I staggered into my bathroom and pissed away an unusually rock-hard morning erection.

I turned off the CD and heard the hiss of air coming from the speakers. I pulled on clothes that I’d only worn for one day. They were fine.

It was Saturday and I was up earlier than usual. Beth had been up first. She and my mom were sitting at the table eating cereal with far too many different kinds of diced fruit on top. Mom was reading the paper and Beth was barely reading a magazine she’d gotten in the mail the day before. She had her body hunkered down under a big sweatshirt. Her bare legs were tight together.

“Morning, honey.”

“Hey,” I said. My voice was thick and my eyes were still muddy and weary from sleep. I dropped into my chair, not looking at my sister sitting directly across from me. Dad was off already.

“You want eggs? Something hot?”

“Cereal’s fine.” Mom just smiled and went back to her paper. I sat there a minute. I poured my cereal. Something with “Flakes” in the name. Its main purpose was to make old people shit. But it was what was on the table.

My eyes hit Beth’s a minute. She was staring at me. Her face was strangely absent of make-up. Anymore, that was a rarity. She looked weird. I couldn’t figure what was going on behind those eyes. I started escort pendik to pull the milk container over.

“Is this that soy crap?”

“It’s better for you than milk,” mom said.

“Doesn’t taste better.”

“You’ll live, honey.”

“Hmm.”

Beth was biting her lower lip when I looked back up.

She slid the small bowl of cut bananas, strawberries, and the remnants of some little blue son of a bitch I figured was a blueberry, but wasn’t sure.

“I don’t want any fucking fruit,” I said plainly.

“Matthew,” mom said exasperated. She lowered her paper.

“Sorry.” I wasn’t.

“Never mind your language, mister. I don’t like the way you treat your sister.” Beth was getting that kicked puppy look.

“Doesn’t matter,” Beth mumbled. But it did. Anyone could see that. Even I could see that.

“See?” I said, bravely ignoring the obvious.

“It’s time you two grew up a little. I don’t know why you can’t be nice to each other. I’m not asking you to be best friends, but at least act like you can stand each other.” She flapped her newspaper straight and went back to whatever she’d been reading.

Beth looked uncertainly to me and tried a kind of smile that looked like a truce offering. I think I sneered and shook my head before she really had time to commit.

“Honey?” mom asked as Beth scooped up her magazine and ran out of the kitchen. I heard her going up the stairs. I couldn’t get her bare, toned legs out of my head.

After mom chewed me out, I grabbed a doughnut from the plate at the end of the table and went upstairs.

On my desk were all my CD’s. Four stacks, about a foot and a half each. They were alphabetized by group. Last time I saw them, they’d fallen off her bed into a mess of plastic cases and tossed discs.

I put them in my stereo shelf. I turned around and saw Beth standing in the doorway to her room. She was watching me. Still in just the sweatshirt, she stood with one foot turned in. Her hands had disappeared in the cuffs of her bulky sleeves. There was something like a cross between a question and a smile on her lips. Pretty lips, I noticed.

I shut my door and went to the large chair under my window. I pulled out a book and started reading. A few chapters later, mom’s car pulled out of the driveway around eleven. Her weekly lunch with our aunt.

I hadn’t realized it was that late. I rubbed my eyes and dropped the book to the carpet.

“Fucking shoes,” I wondered aloud. Under the bed. I reached under to get them. My fingers touched what had to be a CD case. I pulled it out. Hers. I got down and looked under the frame for more. Just the one. A soundtrack. I liked one song on it.

I pulled my shoes on, feeling the plastic in the heel breaking as I forced them, still tied, onto my feet. I grabbed the case and jumped up.

Beth was on her bed, curled on her side. Her eyes were open and she was just staring at the wall. I saw a peek of panty under the bottom of the sweatshirt. She turned as I dropped the case on her desk. Her room bright and orderly in the daylight. Mine was always dark and full of junk.

“Found it under the bed,” I said tapping a finger on the plastic case.

“Thanks,” she said. You could see the eagerness to make good on her face. I almost growled in disgust. I headed down the hall and heard her feet hit the floor and then run after me as I turned the corner down the stairs. I grabbed my keys from the bottom step and went right outside. She came out after me. She was tiptoeing across the lawn half-naked as I was getting into my car.

“Matt,” she said, coming up to the passenger side. “Wait. Can we talk?”

“Why?” Why couldn’t she have just left it alone?

“Please?”

“Forget it. I’m going for some lunch. Something.” I put the car in reverse. She jumped in, shutting the door quick.

“Matt-“

“The hell are you doing?” I closed my eyes and tried to not yell at her.

“I just want to talk, Matt.” I wondered how many guys she’d fucked. She looked so sweet. But I knew she’d fucked someone. Maybe she did it herself. Dildo, or whatever teenage girls do. I watched her puff a lock of hair out of her eyes.

“Go inside, Beth.”

“No.” No. Not, Hell no. Or, Fuck you, I’m staying. No. I couldn’t get angry with No.

“Beth.”

“I can’t anyway. The door locks behind you and I obviously don’t have a key.” No. She obviously didn’t. She obviously had a sweatshirt and panties. That was about it. I could see a few inches of her panties as she sat there. Her smooth crotch.

“Get out, Bethany.” Nothing. Even calling her that got me absolutely nothing.

“You have to let me in.”

“The spare key is under the third rock. See ya.” Nothing. “Fine.” I let off the brake and pulled out of the drive.

“Matt,” she said nervously.

“Put your belt on. I don’t want a ticket.” She pulled it on quickly and tried to pull her sweatshirt down some.

“Take me back, Matt.”

“Soon as I get some lunch.”

“Matt,” she pleaded.

“Listen, you pendik escort bayan got in – you wouldn’t get out. You’re along for the ride.”

She looked down and held her slender legs together.

“Can we talk then?”

“Jesus.”

“Come on, Matt. Last night -“

“What’s the point in talking? Was it my fault?”

“No.”

“Was it your fault?”

“No.”

“So let it go.”

“But -“

“Seriously, Beth, let it go.” It came out harsher than I wanted, but she shut up. I pulled into a burger stand. No customer area. Just drive-thru.

“What do you want?” I asked her.

“I don’t have any money,” she said looking nervous about going through.

“No shit. What – do – you – want?”

“Can I have the number three?” I pulled to the window and turned down the radio.

“Number three, a number two, and a double burger.”

“What kind of -“

“Cokes. Both of them,” I said. The girl behind the window was 16 at most. Braces, glasses, and strangely do-able. She just stared at the half-dressed girl next to me. Beth’s sweatshirt didn’t cover her ass at all the way she pulled it over her crotch. You could see the white curve of it down her hip.

“Sweetheart,” I said, snapping my fingers. She looked embarrassed and smiled her apology. She went quickly to get our stuff.

“Get a ten out of my wallet. Glove box.” Beth did, pulling a ten out and putting the wallet back inside.

The girl with the braces gave me my food and change. She got halfway through her “Thank you for coming blah blah blah” speech when we were pulling out. I drove around, pulling into the huge parking lot of a supermarket.

“What are you doing?”

“Parking the car.” I turned the key back, leaving the radio on.

“But…can’t we eat at home?”

“No one’s around. The sandwiches’ll be cold and the fries’ll be stale by the time we get there.” She looked around and bit her lip again. I was starting to wish she’d quit that. It was giving me notions.

“Um, thanks for the sandwich. I’ll pay you back at home.” She unwrapped her chicken sandwich.

“Keep it. It’s four dollars.”

“Thanks.” We ate in silence. She took small, dainty bites. Why couldn’t chicks just eat the way they really wanted to? Just plow through it. I was halfway through my second burger as she had finished just half of her sandwich. She nibbled on a fry every few bites. Finally, she finished.

“Oh, I have to pee,” she said as she finished her small coke. I was just finishing mine. I started the car up and pulled out into the street.

She changed the radio station. I saw her look at me to see if I was going to flip out. When I didn’t do anything, she kept pressing the seek button. She stopped on some whiny college station. Her face brightened at a song that made my skin crawl. I let it go.

By the time we were pulling into the driveway, she was jumping her legs up and down and rocking in place.

“Here,” I said, handing her the keys. “Go.” She almost fell out of the car. Her sweatshirt went up and around her waist as she ran in great, long strides to the front door. She danced and moved in place as she tried to unlock the handle. When she did, she threw it open and ran inside.

I smiled as I followed her in. Pulled my keys from the door and pushed it tight behind me. I wandered into the kitchen and threw away the sack and garbage from our lunch.

Beth came out of the bathroom by the back door looking much relieved. She smiled sheepishly at me and stood in the kitchen waiting for me to say something.

“You gonna get dressed today?”

“Maybe.” She said it to be funny, halfway laughing as she said it. I didn’t laugh and she cleared her throat and stopped.

“You’re not so smart, you know,” she said.

“That’s what you’re going with?” I asked. “What are you, 13?”

She glared at me and stormed past. I watched her legs leave the room under the thick cover of her sweatshirt. I grabbed a bottle of some kind of orange drink my mom kept buying. I was shaking it like a paint mixer as I went up the stairs.

Beth ambushed me as I went in my room.

“Here,” she spat. She thumped a folded pack of dollar bills against my chest. I caught them trapped between my arm and ribs.

“I wouldn’t want you to think I owed you anything.” She spun around, twirling that sweatshirt up, flashing the white of her panties at me. She walked quickly, making them disappear a little between her firm cheeks. I shook my head and went to my chair.

I hadn’t made it two seconds before she was yanking her door open again and stomping her little feet inside my room.

“I thought we agreed you don’t come in here, and I don’t go in there?”

“Now you listen to me,” she said, pointing her finger and waggling it at me. “Mom’s right. We don’t have to be friends. But I don’t know why we can’t at least be civil to each other.”

“Says the angry girl who keeps trying to pick a fight.”

“Shut up! I’m trying to make a point. God, Matt, we’re not kids anymore.”

“What’s your point, Beth?” I was calm. I dropped my book on the chair and looked at her.

“Just that we shouldn’t fight so much.”

“We always have.”

“I know. And I’m tired of it. I don’t want to anymore.”

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