[This story contains incestuous themes. There also episodes involving voyeurism and group sex. If this type of material offends you...or just doesn't float your erotic boat, you'd be better served by finding another tale. All characters are over the age of eighteen and all sexual encounters are consensual.]
ONCE UPON A GREAT NOTION
"What does that mean?" I blurted angrily.
I had jacked to a halt amid my furious pacing and gave my brother what I knew was a withering glare.
"Nothing," he answered with a shrug, shaking his head just a bit.
"No, you meant something. You wouldn't have said it if you didn't...what?"
Bobby was sitting cross-legged on his bed, a hand of solitaire laid out before him. He eyed me over his glasses...the calm disinterested air of a frickin' swami.
"I didn't mean nothin'," he muttered.
I'd been in a rant for the past fifteen minutes about my boyfriend...my ex-boyfriend to be precise...who'd just unceremoniously dumped me for a...
"You said she has
something.
What a frickin' disease?"
Bobby tried not to grin. Amidst my ravings, most of which centered on the fact that the little bitch he'd cast me off for had nothing on me in looks or brains...or anything...
anything
...he'd mused, in what I'd term his donnish tone, that he'd heard she did have one fine selling point.
"Come on," I demanded furiously.
"She..."
"She what?"
"...She performs what the Italian's call fellatio."
"Blow jobs?"
"You're so coarse," he chuckled. "But yes, I've heard more than one guy brag about...let's call it her expertise in that particular art. "
"Frickin' whore."
"Fuck him and fuck her," he went on, flipping an ace up top and capping it with a deuce. "You're worth a thousand of her on her best day."
I went to say something but felt my eyes well up at the casual compliment. "...Thanks."
"Well you are," he said and flipped another card up.
"Maybe I should start sucking cock."
"Jesus, the mouth on you. Mom hears you talk like that, she'll kill you."
"Six of hearts."
"Six of hearts on the seven," I repeated, gesturing at his game.
He nodded and made the move.
"Maybe I should."
"Huh?"
"You know."
"Jesus, I shouldn't be talking about this shit with my kid sister."
"He asked me to do it."
"And if you did he'd be out telling everybody that you... you know."
"I'd get more dates."
"Probably, yeah," he chortled.
"You're such a jerk." I smiled, and resumed my pacing. "Guys are so stupid for that."
"Dumb as rocks."
"...Have you had a lot."
"I am not talking about this with you."
"Come on," I prodded, amused to see my brother actually blush.
"No."
"You haven't had a lot?"
"No, as in I am not having this discussion. Not with you."
"You don't have to tell me who," I said, in that instant running the faces of his various girlfriends like a police six-pack. "I just wanna know if they did it good?"
He looked at me again over the edge of his glasses.
"Red four up on the Ace stack," I blurted, gesturing impatiently for the move. He obligingly slid the card up very slowly.
"Not particularly, no," he said softly.
"They weren't good."
"I don't think they were that into it."
"So if I decide to do it, I should be good at it."
"Please..."
"You know how I am. If I do something I'm gonna be good at it."
He blushed to a deeper shade of crimson...I was enjoying Bobby's discomfiture, even as my anger ebbed.
"You know if I get something in my head..."
"You'll be a savant, I have no doubt."
"I'll need to practice..."
He waved me towards the door...I was becoming aware that my brother was contorting just a bit to obscure his crotch.
"But if I practice then everyone will know I suck dick..."
"Jesus, please stop."
"But they will."
He waved me off towards the door again. "Yes, like when you started playing the violin. Everybody on the street knew you were learning. Then one day you stopped sounding crappy."
"But then I'll have a reputation as a..."
He abruptly pulled his cards into a rough pile and started tapping them back into deck.
"Lose?"
"No, I gave up."
"Too distracted?"
"No...I just gave up."
"Sorry."
"No you're not."
"...Lets go for a walk."
"No."