Author's note: This is a submission for the 2018 Valentine's Day contest. Thought I would try something a little different for once, so please read, vote, and tell me what you think in the comments section below. Enjoy!
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"Sher!"
I hurriedly took off my shoes as I stepped through the doorway to the humble little apartment that I share with my wife.
"Sher! Your dirty mind almost ruined me today! Mrs Thomas asked for the butter at lunch and I almost asked her if it was for her dog!"
I had a wicked smile on my face as I stepped across the living room to the kitchen where-
"Well Sherry isn't home, Thomas, but you've gotta tell me about this butter thing," the timid redhead retorted, her eyes alight and a gleaming smile on her face.
"Fuck, Carrie. Why are you
always
here?" I muttered with annoyance, and the redhead's smile quickly shifted into a grimace, as she glared at me.
"You said I could come whenever!" she shot back.
"Yeah- but when I said 'whenever' I didn't realize it would mean 'every waking second of my life.' Fuck! Where is Sherry anyway?" I asked, trying to contain my annoyance.
Carrie was my wife's little sister, but her peskiness and insistence on always being around was much more than I'd ever bargained for.
"She got called back for a late shift."
"She what?!"
My wife had only recently completed the practical aspects of her medical degree, and half of her time seemed to be spent at the hospital or on call recently.
I knew it couldn't be helped, but today was Valentine 's Day.
Not only had we planned something special for the night weeks in advance, but we'd been holding off on sex all week to make the night extra steamy, as had become our tradition over the past couple years.
I sighed.
Her late shifts ended at two am, and she'd already worked from six am this morning till two in the afternoon.
By the time she got home I'd be lucky if she could say a word, much less have sex.
I was both annoyed and feeling the early onset of what was sure to be a porn filled night of unsatisfying sexual frustration.
I kicked at the base of the nearby counter, and Carrie stared at me blankly.
"You're sure act like a little kid sometimes," she muttered, and I ignored her, going to the fridge and taking out a cold brew.
"You're one to talk. Valentine's date stood you up? Or was no-one that desperate for once this year," I asked.
I braced for the comeback, but when it never came I glanced over at her warily.
Carrie was Sherry's junior by three years, but what my wife had in sheer blossoming beauty, Carrie inherited meek features that while being far from ugly, never really stood out.
Her face was small and round, her body petite.
Her breasts barely showed when she wore loose clothes, even if she went braless, and her lanky frame didn't quite exude the kind of dripping sexuality that her sister's body did.
Her eyes fluttered a little, before she looked up from the countertop and gave a half-hearted shrug.
"I got nothing," she responded, and I turned away from the kitchen feeling strangely awkward, for once, about the jibe.
As I sat down to enjoy my brew, I realized that my jabs were probably mean, but Carrie had never seemed to care much.
We'd chastised each other at almost every possible opportunity, and there never seemed to be any limit as to what was considered too far.
Had I gone too far today?
I didn't think so.
Surely I'd told her much, much worse.
But there certainly seemed to be something on her mind.
I thought for a moment about chatting it out with her, but a heart to heart with Carrie was probably the last thing I needed right now.
All jokes and jabs aside, we were scarcely each other's favourite person, so I turned on the television and started browsing through my Netflix for something good to watch.
Ideally, I would have just stripped down, put on some good porn, and whittled the evening away getting wasted; but with Carrie here that wasn't really an option.
Eventually, I settled on some raunchy new anime series that was in my to-watch list.
It was risqué enough to indulge my sexual appetite just a little, but not so bad that Carrie could complain if she walked in, and knowing her it was only a matter of time before-
"Watcha doing?"
I was barely through the second episode when Carrie poked her head into the living room, and I sighed.
"Baking a cake. What does it look like I'm doing?" I asked, and she plopped down on the couch opposite the one on which I was seated.
"Is this anime?" she asked, and I nodded, doing my best to ignore her, but I knew full well that a deluge of annoying questions was sure to follow.
"I never understood what you two have with this junk... it's all so weird and stupid," she commented smugly, and I rolled my eyes.
"Well you never did have good taste anyway," I replied, and even as she glared at me I ignored her and continued watching the screen.
But just then a flashy action sequence quickly gave way to one of the raunchier moments, and I cringed as the female heroine fell before the burly muscled, antagonist, and the man grasped her from behind, before tearing the skimpy suit she wore, exposing one of her breasts.
"You lived like a pampered princess all your life! Maybe you should learn what it feels like to be a common whore!"
I gulped as I read the subtitles, thankful that the words were being spoken in Japanese and so not drawing Carrie's immediate attention, but my relief was short lived as she glanced at the screen, and her eyes went wide, before a curious smile crept across her lips.
"Oh? Now this is interesting," she muttered, and I groaned in frustration.
"We have another tv in the bedroom," I muttered suggestively, "maybe you should go watch something else-"
"Trying to get my in your bedroom? Ha, in your dreams!" she snapped, and I groaned at her deliberate misunderstanding of my suggestion.
"What is this anyway?" she asked, as the man in the show grasped the girl's breasts and fondled them roughly.
"Please. Anyone? Save me!"
the girl cried out in that tired old fashion, and to my relief the hero made his dramatic appearance.
"Curse you, villainous scum! Unhand this innocent girl and face me!"
"Ahaha. You fell right into my trap!"
To be honest, it was usually at moments like this that I'd wish the villain would have his way with the heroine a little longer, since the rescue of the hero usually meant the sexiness was just about done, but this time I was just relieved that I didn't have to endure anymore discomfort with Carrie sitting across from me.
"Aww. Is that all?" Carrie asked, and I groaned despite internally agreeing with the sentiment.
"Yes. Now shoo. Go watch something else in Sherry's room," I chided her, but as the episode came to an end and I headed to the kitchen for another brew, she followed me to my dismay.
"That was kinda hot. Is there any more of that weird Japanese shit like that?"
"Like what?" I asked, my reflexive annoyance at her questions quickly taking precedence.
"Like when the big bad guy groped the shit out of that unbelievably stacked chick."
I sighed.
"Probably. Who knows?"
"Seriously? You watch this shit all the fucking time, I'd think you'd have a list of references just ready and waiting at this point."
"Christ. Do you have any idea at all, how much anime is out there? I've probably not even seen one percent of it," I muttered, and Carrie stared at me in genuine shock.
"You're serious?" she asked, disbelievingly, and I rolled my eyes again as I opened up my second beer for the night and took a swig.
