Jenny
I'll get back to the blonde but I think it's important to understand the relationship my sister Jenny and I shared. It had changed once we crossed the line separating what is considered normal and what is not and now, after what had happened that night, I was totally preoccupied with figuring out how I was going to take this to the next level. Part of it was hormonal, I was at the age when I'd fuck anything in a skirt and the other part was my developing obsession with incest.
Playing doctor as kids and exploring each other's privates in some dark cubbyhole or indulging in a show and tell is okay as long as the exploratory touching didn't lead to masturbation or sex. Then it becomes taboo. I'm not sure how or who established these boundaries but we had officially crossed it the night of the storm.
The morning after the incident was the worst. At some point during the night my sister had left my bed and that was something she had never done before. This could only mean that she was upset and would rather deal with her innate fear of lightning and thunder than with my sexual advances. I felt certain that she would confide in my mother, they were closer than two peas in a pod, and though that would be unimaginably embarrassing, I could deal with it. It was my father that I was worried about.
Dad was a different animal altogether. He was an Army Ranger and had a temper which turned him into a fuckin' Neanderthal. If she said something to him, I was dead, I mean, baseball bat to the head dead! But, I doubt Jen was comfortable enough to discuss anything sexual with him so at least for now my bones were intact. It would only be a matter of time before Mom got around to: 'You know, dear, your son's trying to fuck your daughter' or something to that effect but I would deal with that when it happened. Right now, I needed to figure out what I was going to say to Mom and Jenny.
What the fuck was I going to say? I'm sorry but it wasn't me! It was Mr. Mushroom-head ... he made me do it? And, Jenny, you have to believe me, sis, the rubber rat will never again regurgitate on your panties. Never, never, never! Damn, I was dreading this.
I fussed around in my room waiting for my parents to leave for work but that wasn't happening. I could hear them; they were still there. I glanced impatiently at my watch - what the fuck were they doing? Mom and Dad should have been gone by now! They had to be discussing what had happened. That could be the only reason why they were still at home. My mind raced and my heart felt like a jackhammer on speed. My father was going to kill me! And that's when I realized it was a Saturday. Though that provided a much needed reprieve, guilt and paranoia make for conniving bedfellows and I still needed to be sure.
I left the door ajar, listening intently, hoping to get the gist of what was being said but except for a few words most of the conversation wafting up was garbled. And then I heard peals of laughter, it was Mom and Jen - I doubt they would have been laughing if Jenny had spilled the beans. I figured that unless I was planning to feign mortal illness, I had better get my ass down there and this was as good a time as any.
I made a quick stop in Jenny's room and rummaged through her laundry hamper looking for the corroborative evidence of our little escapade. I found several other panties mixed in with her clothes but not the one I had spewed into. I was about to check her bathroom when I heard more laughter and footsteps coming towards the stairway. Returning everything to the way it was, and after one final look around her room, I trudged down to the kitchen.
"Hi, sleepy head," my sister said, greeting me in her usual upbeat manner shocking the hell out of me.
Even if she hadn't said anything to my parents I was certain she'd be embarrassed and would avoid me like the plague. But, here she was acting perfectly normal, as though nothing had happened. I can't explain the relief I felt. It was simply overwhelming.
I gave her a quick look and grunted making my way to the cabinet above the fridge to get the cornflakes. I was floating on air feeling like a death-row inmate who had just been granted amnesty!
"Late night?" Dad asked, peering over the Wall Street Journal. It was something he did religiously; scouring the stocks and worrying about his investments. I swear the man should have been a stockbroker.
"Yeah, I have a couple of papers I need to submit," I grunted in his direction and wondered what he'd think if he knew about the research I had done on his daughter.
I was about to get the milk when my mother came over and hugged me and took the cereal box away, "Sit down, baby, I'm making you an omelet. Here, drink this – fresh, squeezed orange juice."
Mom was a health nut. She was tall and slender and looked a lot younger than she was. She was blessed with the paedomorphic trait found in Northern Europeans, an agelessness that would make the troglodytes at school go - Man, your mom's hot! It used to make me want to stomp their nuts but what are you going to do? They were right, Mom was hot! I sometimes wonder how my parents got together – they were so different. Mom was a bleeding heart liberal, beautiful and gentle, and Dad was a rightwing hard-ass, the Great Santini himself. I guess opposites do attract.
"Don't forget, we are going for the play tonight," Dad reminded, "it wasn't easy getting tickets for the Phantom! And I've made reservations for dinner at Marco's. Read up on Galicia; Northwestern Spain."
This was something we did every month - catch a play, Broadway or Off-Broadway, and usually a dinner afterwards. It was family time and a tradition that none of us were permitted to break unless we were near death. Mom chose the plays and Dad, the restaurants. He wanted us to learn about different cuisines and cultures. We were expected to research the country and the region and come up with interesting facts to discuss over dinner. We also had to dress up – no jeans or tee shirts and definitely no sneakers. We had to look decent – his words not mine.
"I'm meeting Celia and Liz at ten and then we have Volleyball practice in the afternoon," Jenny said grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl, "so I'll see you all in the evening. I know something about the Island of Cortegada we can talk about!"
She added the last part for my benefit with a 'I know something you don't' look before hugging Dad, leaning over him from behind the chair, then Mom, giving her a peck on the cheek. Jenny was as tall as my mother now and they could've easily passed for sisters.
My mother held her at arms-length and cooed, "Just look at you! You're growing up, honey, and so beautiful! Don't you think so, dear?"
The last bit was aimed at my father who grunted without looking up. It must be a Salazar family trait, the grunting!
"Oh, Mom!" Jen protested and on her way out she stopped by the door and said, "What are you going to do, Cal? Isn't Clay at his Uncle's place?"
Ever since Karen, Clay's sister, had died his parents were having problems and it wasn't unusual for Clay to escape to Connecticut to stay with his uncle. Otherwise the two of us were inseparable.
"Yeah," I replied nonchalantly, keeping my eyes averted. "I have some assignments I have to finish up ... I'll head for the library and then maybe hit the gym."
"Are you okay, hon?" my mother quizzed a look of concern crossing her face, "You seem subdued."
I gave Jenny a furtive glance before replying, trying to sound nonchalant but it was hard with images of last night tumbling in my head and Jenny standing there looking like a wet dream.
"I'm fine, Ma ... just a bit stressed."
"Tonight will be fun," Mom said ruffling my hair on the way to the kitchen, "And why don't you go watch your sister play?"
"Yeah, Cal, why don't you come and watch us practice?" Jenny asked, "We have a new coach. She used to play for UCLA and she's good. She thinks I'd make a perfect outside hitter!"
I looked at her wondering what she was up to, acting as though nothing had happened between us. It was unfair. She looked absolutely edible, dressed in a thin cotton top and a pair of jeans that was cut low exposing her little 'inny' belly button. It would have been a lot easier for me if I wasn't so attracted to her.
