I continuously told myself that I was admiring her form from an artist perspective and that it was a natural, understandable attraction. She had, after all, been the muse for the greatest drawing I had ever put to paper. But I also kept thinking I was wrong for finding her sexy. Especially when I found myself contemting her neck, breasts, thighs, hell… any part of her really. She had started creeping into my fantasies when I would masturbate, which disturbed me a good deal if I allowed myself to think about it. I felt like I should not be allowing myself to indulge these kinds of thoughts. She was my sister, for Christ’s sake. But she would continue to sneak into them, regardless of our rtion.
I once found myself in her bedroom, when no one was home. I stood in the doorway and smelled the air, which smelled faintly of her. I could catch hints of the perfume that she preferred, one of those pleasantly mild ones that imed to smell like rain. I walked over to her bed and smelled her pillow, which gave me a stronger sense of the perfume as well as her natural smell. I felt a twitch in my cock as I took a second and third deep inhale of it. That snapped me back to reality enough to exit the room, pondering what the hell my problem was.
Late one Saturday night after work, I was upstairs in my room painting. Amy was out with some friends and our parents were off on some couples retreat. Taking advantage of having the house to myself, I had the stereo sting an old Cure album loud enough to shake the room. This pleased me a good deal, and I would normally have been making serious progress with the canvas, but it just wasn’ting together tonight. I stared at the gray and blue images in annoyance for a few minutes, trying to figure out how to coax what I wanted from it. It just wasn’t happening. I tossed my brush at the water ss in frustration and cursed to myself. Crouching to the ground, I snatched up a tube of ck paint and rocked on my heels, ring at the canvas. I had been wrestling with this same idea for a week now, and restarted multiple times. It was starting to outright piss me off.
“Fuck it.” I muttered and squirted a big line of the ck paint on the canvas. I grabbed a three inch brush and went to work cking out the whole thing. I was still cking out the canvas when the album finished ying and I kept painting in silence for a while when I heard a knock at my doorway.
Slightly startled, I nced over my shoulder to see Amy in a green blouse and ck skirt, leaning against the doorway, holding herself in tears. I dropped my brush on the drop cloth and scurried over to her.
“What’s wrong, Amanda?!” I hadn’t called her by her proper name in years, and had no idea why I did now.
She hugged me tightly around the waist, and I hugged her back, forgetting I had paint all over my forearms. Jesus, she smelled good. What a time to have that thought. shing back briefly on my visit to her bedroom, I was mildly angry with myself.
“That fucking asshole! He slept with Katie!” she cried into my shoulder. “How could he do that?”
“Jeff?” I asked, knowing it was a stupid question as soon as it escaped my lips. She nodded as she continued bawling into my shirt. I felt the dampness of her tears on my chest and was filled with rage. It was crushing me to see her hurting. “Goddamn it, that asshole.”
“I just can’t believe he did that.” she sobbed. “And that whore had pictures of it. She showed them to everyone.”
“I’m so sorry, Amy.” I kept holding her, wanting to make it better somehow. “It’ll be okay.”
“I don’t see how,” she sniffled. “I’m through with him.”
“I should fucking hope so!”
I happened to nce down at her blouse and saw ck paint smudges all over the back and sides of it, matching my hands.
“Oh shit, Amy! I fucked up your shirt, I’m sorry!” I eximed.
She looked down at her shirt, turning it around on her small frame and started chuckling through her tears. “I don’t care. It doesn’t matter.”
There was a pause before she sniffed and hugged me again. “I’m gonna go change. But can I.. would it be okay for me toe back after?”
“Sure, sis. That’s fine.” I thought a second, then added. “It’s gonna smell bad in here for a bit, though. Just warning you. I’m about to use the paint thinner.”
“I don’t mind.” she sadly smiled before she turned and walked out of the room.
I turned on the big fan I kept in the corner and opened the window before breaking out the paint thinner. Working as fast as I could, I cleaned up the brushes and cleaned my hands. I used as little paint thinner as I could and capped the bottle immediately, trying to keep the fumes to a minimum. I had finished cleaning and wasing back from scrubbing my hands with soap trying to kill the smell when she returned. She was d in my Einsturzende Neubauten shirt and a pair of boxers. Her eyes were still rimmed with tears, but she’d cleaned up her mascara and looked less like an angry roon now. Seeing her in the shirt reminded me of the night I’d drawn her sleeping portrait. I felt a strange tightening in my chest at the memory, but shrugged it away.This is the property of N?-velDrama.Org.
She tossed the green blouse at me as she flopped on my bed. “You’re right, that one’s ruined. Use it for a paint rag or something.”
“Sorry about that,” I genuinely felt guilty.
“I don’t care, really. It’s not a big deal.” Sheid back on my bed and put her head on my pillow. The way my t-shirty against her, hugging her frame and the way her long, slender legs poked out from beneath it.. it was sexy. She was sexy. And seemed effortless about it. “What are you staring at?”
“What?” I asked, snapping back into focus.
“What are you staring at?” she repeated, ncing down at herself.
“That’s my shirt, thief.” I replied, feeling like an asshole for ogling her. Even more so for having been caught.
Sheughed a little, and said “Oh yeah, it’sfy.”
Amy kept staring down at the primitive figure on the front of the shirt for a few more moments, and suddenly trembled a bit. “Adam?”
“Yeah?”
“If you’ve got that paint off.. I could really use another hug.” Tears started up again.
I sat on the edge of the bed and gave her a big, long hug as she cried into my shoulder. I wasn’t a violent guy by any stretch of the imagination, but I was really starting to think that a few minutes alone with Jeff and a brick would truly help me feel better about the world.
She clung to me for a few minutes, until she seemed to get it out of her system. She moved from sobbing to just sniffling. I kept quietly reassuring her, until I eventually just shut up and held her. After a while, she released her death grip on me. Her eyes fell on the canvas I had been working on.
“So..” she cleared her throat and wiped at her eyes with the back of a hand, “what’s with the painting?”
“Huh? What do you mean?”
“Why are you painting over it?” She motioned to the mostly cked out rectangle.
“It wasn’t working out like I hoped. I’ve been fighting with it for a while and finally decided to scrap it.” I nced back at the thing, remembering my irritation with it.
“That’s a shame.” she said, “it’s kind of nice.”
“Ah… the true measure of sessful art. When your sister looks at your efforts and deems it ‘kind of nice''” Iughed.
“Shut up, jackass.” she joined me inughing. “You know what I meant.”
She stood and started flipping through a stack of canvasses I had leaning against a wall. As she went through them she started giving her opinions about different ones. I was kind of surprised, because she’d never shown much interest in my stuff, and she made some good observations. But I didn’t say anything because I was d to see her distracted from dickhead. We chatted for several hours about artwork, music, films, her uing trip to Rome, pretty much anything except what had her upset to begin with. Several times her voice would crack and her eyes would well up, but I would swiftly move to distract her with something else. It worked most of the time. I was surprised to discover she wasn’t as vapid as I’d always assumed my little sister had be when we were in high school. While I’d gotten heavily into music and skateboarding, Amy had be a cheerleader and been involved in all sorts of student activities. We’d just grown apart and I came to perceive her as a stereotype. What an asshole I was, I thought with a small smile.
There eventually came a point where I was midway through a speech about my fondness for Ichikawa’s Fires On The in when I realized she had fallen asleep. Which, admittedly, was pretty much what I expected to happen when I started rambling about ck and white Japanese films to anyone. I was well aware that I was far too much of a film nerd for my own good sometimes. But she had fallen asleep in my bed, damn it. I sighed, turned off the bedroom light and slumped in my office chair, resigned to sleeping at my desk for the night. But I slumped perhaps a little louder than I nned.
“What are you doing?” she groggily asked from the bed.
“Go back to sleep” I replied quietly, “it’s fine.”
“Bullshit.” she mumbled nearly face down on the bed, e to bed.”
“I’m fine, don’t sweat it.” I put my head down in my folded arms on the desk.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” she patted the bed.
I didn’t know how I felt about this, given my recent fixation on her. But I crawled into bed anyway, to avoid making an argument of it. She gave me a brief,zy hug and I could feel her bra-less chest press against mine for only a moment. There was a twitch in my pants that I did my level best to ignore. “We used to share a bed all the time when we were little, remember?”
“Yeah, I remember. But that’s been like ten years.” I replied as I yawned and folded my hands behind my head. She had been quite a bit less shapely in those days, and I had been a lot less aware of my own fondness for the opposite sex. Despite my wariness, we were both asleep within minutes.
In my dream, I was spooning Amy. Her perfect ass pushed up against my groin, my erection rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. Izily ran my hand along her side and slid it across her ribs in a hug. She puts her hand over mine, holding it between her breasts as she grinds her butt back against me. I can feel her breasts on either side of my wrist, even through the shirt material they are warm and soft. My god, her hair smells amazing. She moans a little as my cock glides along her crack, and I feel like I may blow my load on the spot. I move to slide my hand down her body again, but she holds my hand in ce. My fingers slip free and the motion causes me to snap my eyes open.