All You Need

Svetlana Mega

Copyright © 2023 Svetlana Mega

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890
ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Taboo Freams
Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309
Printed in the United States of America

I hauled the dainty brush handle ruggedly across the material, abandoning a harsh slice of red on the dark foundation. I then went to chip away at extravagantly featuring the areas of red that I needed to show up more firmly and mixing the ones I needed to blur. The tune beating in my earphones evoking the picture I was chipping away at from my inner being. A portion of the verses latched onto my subconscious mind on a circle, despite the fact that the tune continued onward.

"You shout out in your rest

Every one of my downfalls uncovered

What's more, there is a desire for my mouth

As urgency grabs hold "

This happened at times when I was painting, and zeroing in on pieces of lines that impacted me just added to the state of mind I wanted to pass on. I had no grand deceptions about the canvases I made. I was not pompous about it and did not attempt to persuade individuals there was some profound significance related with them about the disasters of society or any of that other poop that the neighborhood artisanship local area attempted to tack onto every others' work. The work of art I delivered was essentially conceptual pictures. Assortments of surfaces, twirls, and shadows that I trusted, best case scenario, caused somebody to have some kind of close to home reaction to. Even from a pessimistic standpoint, I trusted that they would think they were to some degree fascinating. Assuming that they got something different from it than what I had attempted to convey, then so be it. It didn't make any difference to me whatsoever. I made workmanship just on the grounds that I delighted in it and I generally had from the time I was a kid. It was to some degree soothing for me, and I was at my most useful with it when some misfortune or pressure entered my life. I couldn't have cared less about bringing in cash with it and I wasn't sufficiently silly to accept that I planned to earn enough to pay the bills as a craftsman.

I was 20 years of age, halfway through my second year of school when I exited for the semester in complete disappointment with the craftsmanship program. Uncertain how else to manage my life for the occasion, I was splitting my time between painting all alone and working at a neighborhood mother and popular music store that was scarcely holding tight. The new notoriety flood of vinyl deals were ending up its redeeming quality. I wanted to get back to school in the fall, yet was uncertain if I could go on with the visual expressions program or sink into something endlessly seriously exhausting.

I exchanged brushes and kept mixing dark red circles out of the dark foundation, applying a large number of layers of red on the material. It generally took numerous layers, yet the completed impact truly appeared as though the picture was ascending from the profundities of the foundation. A surprising hand on my shoulder broke my focus and frightened me such a lot of that I nearly dropped the plate I was utilizing as a bed.

"Supper's prepared, ass." My sister sneered down at me where I was hunkered, her dull hair tumbling down past her shoulders.

"Christ, Maya." I pulled the mini headphones from my ears. "You terrified me."

"That makes sense of the smell in here." She answered, looking satisfied with herself.

"I'll be down in almost no time, simply have to tidy this up genuine speedy." I feigned exacerbation at her jest and started washing off the brushes I'd utilized.

She turned and strolled to the entryway. I naturally looked up at her butt as she left. To me, I tumbled to my knees and applauded the sky consistently for whoever developed yoga pants. Despite the fact that her shirt was sufficiently long to cover the majority of her shapely butt, I could see the lower half of it look out with each step. I wasn't one to gaze at each female structure that moved, yet a mind blowing ass was an amazing ass. My sister had one, and I thought she knew it. I was dependably mindful that she was my sister and felt fittingly regretful for taking note. I realized I shouldn't have. Yet, this was simply that male nature, anything old remainders of our reptile minds that just wouldn't let us not notice an incredible ass. I gazed longer than I planned to, as I thought about my reptile mind, and abruptly understood the ass had left the room. I was gazing at an unfilled entryway. Rebuking myself, I shook my head.

I went to the restroom and cleaned up, ensuring I didn't get paint all around the lounge area table. My mom didn't have a funny bone about things like that. I searched in the mirror and acknowledged how tired I looked. I waited around 5'9" with short, dim earthy colored hair that was almost dark, light earthy colored eyes, and a slim form. I wasn't athletic in the conventional sense, yet long stretches of skating had kept me with everything looking good. It had likewise left me with different little scars from falls and a terrible knee that was sometimes beginning to give me inconvenience. I murmured and set out down the stairs toward supper.

Mother gave me a plate of food and I got comfortable at the feasting table to eat. Maya sat opposite me, fiddling with her telephone as she bit. I could expect she was messaging with her dickhead sweetheart, Rick. I had some significant awareness of Rick by notoriety around grounds and he struck me as an obscure butt hole, subsequently me calling him a dickhead. However, as a matter of fact, he had been okay to my sister in the month or so they'd been going out. That didn't mean I needed to like him, yet what she did was her business. My father ate in the lounge before the television, watching a football match-up. I momentarily contemplated for what reason I'd been brought into the world without anything quality it was that made games fascinating to individuals. Except if you believed skating to be a game, I never had any need for them, myself. I contemplated whether my dad would have checked out my life assuming that I were a games nut such as himself, however it didn't especially annoy me that he didn't when I had arrived at secondary school. He showered consideration on my sister at whatever point she had any sort of school movement going on, which made it horrendously clear who was the inclined toward youngster.

A couple of moments into the dinner, my telephone vibrated in my pocket. It was a text from Miley. "Hello, here's that collection you got some information about." The informed was joined by a connection. I grinned and tapped the connection to download it.

"Much obliged, Miley. I truly feel a debt of gratitude." I sent back.

A couple of seconds passed. "What amount did you see the value in it?"

I took a gander at the text and grinned once more. I knew this game well. "Enough to recollect it next time I see you."

Maya saw me grinning at my telephone and feigned exacerbation a piece, attempting to irritate me. I disregarded her trap. I think sisters at times want to begin poor. For hell's sake, I guess siblings do, as well. I'd absolutely begun my reasonable part with her. I thought down at my telephone as it vibrated once more.

"Great that is the very thing that I needed to hear."

Then, at that point, came another text. "Lily's returned home for the end of the week. I truly don't have any desire to be distant from everyone else this evening. Is that alright? Could you at any point drop by later?"

I contemplated it a second, envisioning Miley's exposed body against mine. I had nothing continuing this evening, and it had been a long time since I'd last laid down with her. Miley was a short, slim young lady with smallish bosoms, a respectable ass, and a pixie hair style. Her hair tone appeared to change each and every other week, its normal variety being something of a secret to me albeit most likely a mouse brown if I somehow happened to figure in view of the shade of her hedge. She was charming, however she was one of the more genuinely depleting individuals to associate with that I had met in a drawn-out period of time. She was photography major at the college and hung out around all the vainglorious workmanship upstart sorts that ground on each nerve that I had. In any case, when given the choice of getting laid or not getting laid, the decision appeared to be really self-evident.

"Of course, that is fine. I'll be by there when I can break liberated from this spot."

"Cool. See you in a little."

After supper, I cleaned up, snatched my knapsack and headed to Miley's.

* * *

Miley opened the entryway and embraced me on the spot. Her hair was a profound shade of red this evening. It differentiated vigorously against her pale, nearly to the mark of clear, skin. She was wearing a long silk wraparound with a botanical print that she'd tracked down in a Generosity some place. It gripped to her thin body as she moved, emphasizing the way that it was reasonable that entire she had on. I could see the frameworks of her areola rings plainly on the texture.

"Howdy, Endy," she murmured with her arms around my neck. "I've missed you."

"Great to see you, Miley." I answered as I dropped my pack by the entryway and shut the entryway with my foot.

Miley grinned into my shoulder as she pulled me back toward the room. "It seems like always that I've been sitting tight for you."

When we got to her room, the robe hit the floor and I found that I was right. She was exposed underneath it. In spite of the fact that I'd seen her exposed ordinarily, I actually needed to respite and grin without fail, taking in her delicate bends and appreciating how a portion of her tattoos fit to the forms of her shape. She looked up at me modestly briefly, then, at that point, embraced me. The entire room possessed an aroma like sandalwood as she'd obviously been consuming the stuff once more.

"You can soften hearts with that look, you know." She murmured as she started establishing kisses on my collarbone. I got her, while her arms were as yet folded over my neck and set her on the bed. She laughed as I stopped to start my shoes off, prior to moving in to join her.

"Did you miss me, Endy?" She inquired, "It's been some time."

"Obviously I did," I answered as I started kissing her stomach, torn on which bearing to I needed to head. Eventually, I went up and kissed my direction up between her bosoms to her neck.

She ran her gives over my sides, gripping at me, at long last snatching my worn-out Apex Twin shirt and yanking it over my head. One hand folded over my rib confine while the other slid down and scoured my quickly solidifying rooster through the texture my jeans. I felt her lips on my throat once more, as she licked her direction up my jaw line and sucked enticingly on my base lip. She drew her knees up and separated them, pulling me toward her.

I broke our hug to the point of pulling off my jeans and move back in the bed. She moved me on my back and I propelled myself up toward the headrest. Miley brought her head down to my chicken and kissed it. Taking it in her grasp, she licked my shaft in one nonstop movement the whole way to the tip prior to taking me in her mouth. I automatically took a sharp breath, my heartbeat enlivening. She weaved her head all over a couple of times, twirling her tongue around the head before she moved to kissing my stomach. I had my hand improved, hauling my fingertips down her body as she climbed me. She kissed her direction up my chest to my throat, her breath turning out to be more brutal and rough as she went.

At the point when she rode my hips, I slid my hand across her thigh and measured her managed hedge in my palm. She took a sharp admission of breath, and propelled herself against my hand as my fingers followed the blueprint of her sex with my fingertips. Her head settled against my neck, breathing out quickly in my ear. After a couple of seconds, she smacked my hand away and set down next to me.

"Pick up the pace," she groaned as she threw me a condom. I opened up it and put it on rapidly. She moved to ride me and situated me over her entry. We both wheezed as I entered her. She shook herself all over on my dick, heaves expanding in beat and volume. Her back curved away from me as she put her arms on the wall over my head. I measured her butt in my grasp as I push into her, believing her glow envelope me. She groaned so anyone might hear as I snared my tip of my tongue through one of her areola rings and pulled daintily.

Indeed, even through the repulsive channel of the condom, I could feel the need to get going in Miley's developments. It had been a long time since I'd last come over, all things considered, and clearly she was horny as damnation. Perhaps a portion of her other toys had been occupied of late too. I felt the shivering vibe that cautioned me I was drawing near and I was going to change positions in a possible bid to endure longer when I heard the earnest groans in Miley's voice letting me know that she was getting a similar update.

As her climax surpassed her, she grasped me firmly with her legs and I could feel her thighs trembling against mine from the strain. That was all it took and I sent off a large number of rounds of sperm to no end against the mass of the condom. She imploded into me, as we both battled to pause and rest.

"Much thanks to you," she muttered into my chest.

* * *

We were lying exposed on her bed. I was set facing her headboard and she lay on her back across me with her head lying on my stomach. Her dull red hair moist with sweat, minuscule smears of hair color denoted the edge of her hairline. She lethargically smoked a cigarette, tapping the cinders into the plate she had laying on her hip. I wound up taking a gander at the series of scars along her lower arms, some more raised than others. Every one of them old and long recuperated. Furthermore, self caused. She attempted to keep them concealed under different arm bands that she had enhancing the two arms. She had comparative scars on her upper thighs that I some of the time kissed, which generally delivered a positive reaction from her. Her scars achieved a feeling of despairing in me once in a while, yet I was happy she was in a preferred spot now over when she had made them. In the event that she saw me taking a gander at them, she didn't say anything.

"You realize there's a show coming up in a couple of months?" She asked me, as she gazed at the roof.

"I found out about it. Another of those nearby craftsman grandstand things. You were going to be in it?"

"Better believe it. You could get in on it assuming you needed. I have the guardian's number here." She looked up at me and grinned.

"I don't have the foggiest idea. I don't know I could deal with being around all that. I can't handle things like that. That's what you know." I had my hand lying on her shoulder, however let it slide down her chest and began absently playing with the hostage globule on her areola ring. She had little bosoms that were quite welcoming. I was partial to prodding her areola rings with my tongue and never appeared to feel burnt out on watching her areolas solidify under my touch.

"I realize you don't. Yet, it very well may be a decent way so that more individuals could see your stuff. What's more, it's a gathering show. You'd just have four or five pieces in it. I think they are just considering 8 feet for each craftsman." She offered the cigarette to me, yet I waved it away. She realized I didn't smoke, however offered constantly at any rate. I had long thought it was on the grounds that she failed to remember which of the folks she had visiting were smokers, yet I never ruined the mind-set by calling attention to that. I realized I wasn't the main person she was laying down with, yet it wasn't like we had a future together. This evening, she was with me. That was all both of us were asking from the circumstance.

"I'll consider it." I yielded. I realized she had a point about the openness; however I could have done without being around huge gatherings. Particularly when those huge gatherings would certainly be pompous douches. I followed my fingers along the long, twirling plant tattoo that scaled her rib confine, making her squirm away, chuckling.

"Hello fucker!" she chuckled "That tickles."

"You like it when I do that with my tongue." I smiled at her.

"Better believe it, I do. So for what reason are you treating it terribly?" She gave me a look of phony disturbance.

"I couldn't say whether you were keen on more than one round this evening."

"In the event that you didn't have any idea how to utilize that thing I probably won't be." She thumbed in that frame of mind of my chicken and licked her lips while bringing down her eyelids at me. "However, that is never been an issue for you."

"What's more, here I thought you were only reluctant to hang out at the condo without anyone else," I laughed.

"At the point when Lily let me know she planned to see her family this end of the week, your dick was the principal thing I considered." She turned over and took a gander at my prick, allowing her warm breath to wash over it, breathing life back into it. "Most of you were optional."

I was taking a taste of my lager when that's what she said and almost began stifling with chuckling.

* * *

A couple of evenings later, I headed out to see a film for certain companions and we halted at a bar returning. It was clearly beyond 12 PM when I at last returned home. I let myself in the house and strolled discreetly to the kitchen and got filtered water from the cooler. En route to the steps, I saw the television on in the lounge and went to see who was up.

Maya lay dozing on the couch before the television. She was wearing fighter shorts and one of my Einsturzende Neubauten shirts. That little poop whole, I thought, I'd been searching wherever for that shirt. Her head lie in the convict of her arm, while her other hand lay on the couch by her face, palm down. The shirt neckline was loosened up and stretched out nearly to her shoulder. A portion of her long dull hair fell across her tranquil face. I was unable to make sense of why, yet something about the manner in which the light fell across her face and how she was laying truly evoked an emotional response from me. I felt a motivation that seldom at any point struck me.

I discreetly sat in a chair opposite her and slipped a sketchbook from my sack. I flipped it to a clear page as quietly as I could and began outlining. The lines came effectively to me, which was uncommon. I generally made some horrible memories with drawing anything sensible. My fixation on drawing the little subtleties had consistently neutralized me and I ended up workaholic behavior the pictures until they were only a wreck. I portrayed the unpleasant layout of her face as delicately as possible. Then I zeroed in on her little hand, drawing out and concealing her long, sensitive fingers. There were such countless welcoming shadows to chip away at in the obscurity of the room. I gazed unobtrusively at my dozing sister opposite me, taking in the shapes and points of lines that made up her structure. The bend of her shoulder as it transformed into her neck, the plunge of her neck not long before it associated with her jaw. Her high cheekbones and her little ears with their fragile ear cartilage. The line of murkiness where her delicate, full lips met one another. Her eyes moved a little behind her shut eyelids, so I expected she was dreaming. I chipped away at the drawing for a few hours without recalling that I had the container of water close to me. Being parched was as of now not so much as a calculate my psyche.

At the point when I was at long last gotten done with it, I sat back in the seat gazing at the drawing. My goodness, I pondered internally. It was the best thing I had at any point finished. Beyond a shadow of a doubt. It looked such a lot of like her that I felt like it had been drawn by another person. I looked from the moving to her and back at the drawing. Feeling totally happy with how well it had emerged, I discreetly shut the sketchbook, gathered my sack and went to go higher up. I stopped close to her and delicately hauled the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. She nestled her face into the hoodlum of her arm once more, never truly awakening. I understood that evening how genuinely lovely she truly was. I went higher up asking why I had never seen that about her, and asking why I saw now. As I fell face first on the bed in fatigue, I understood that the sun was beginning to look in through the window.

* * *

Over the course of the following couple of weeks, I wound up pondering Maya increasingly more frequently. I was really torn about it. That is to say, we had consistently thought often about one another, despite the fact that we didn't hang out any longer. In any case, what I was feeling appeared as though it was unique.

I persistently let myself know that I was respecting her structure according to a craftsman point of view and that it was a characteristic, justifiable fascination. She had, all things considered, been the dream for the best drawing I had at any point put to paper. Yet, I additionally continued thinking I was off-base for thinking that she is attractive. Particularly when I wound up pondering her neck, bosoms, thighs, damnation... any piece of her, truth is told. She had begun crawling into my dreams when I would jerk off, which upset me a reasonable setup in the event that I permitted myself to consider it. I felt like I shouldn't permit myself to enjoy these sorts of considerations. She was my sister, for the good of Christ. Yet, she would keep on slipping into them, no matter what our connection.

I once wound up in her room, when nobody was home. I remained in the entryway and smelled the air, which smelled faintly of her. I could get traces of the aroma that she liked, one of those wonderfully gentle ones that professed to resemble downpour. I strolled over to her bed and smelled her cushion, which provided me with a more grounded feeling of the scent as well as her normal smell. I felt a jerk in my chicken as I required a second and third profound breathe in of it. That snapped me back to reality enough to leave the room, contemplating what on God's green earth my concern was.

Late one Saturday night after work, I was higher up in my room painting. Maya was out for certain companions and our folks were off on certain couples retreat. Exploiting having the house to myself, I had the sound system impacting an old Fix collection adequately boisterous to shake the room. This satisfied me a reasonable setup, and I would ordinarily have been gaining serious headway with the material, however it simply wasn't meeting up this evening. I gazed at the dim and blue pictures in disturbance for a couple of moments, attempting to sort out some way to persuade what I needed from it. It simply wasn't working out. I threw my brush at the water glass in dissatisfaction and reviled to myself. Squatting to the ground, I grabbed up a container of dark paint and shook behind me, scowling at the material. I had been grappling with this equivalent thought for seven days at this point, and restarted on various occasions. It was beginning to altogether annoy me.

"To hell with it." I murmured and spurted a major line of the dark paint on the material. I snatched a three inch brush and went to resolve blacking the entire thing. I was all the while shutting down the material when the collection completed the process of playing and I continued to paint peacefully for some time when I heard a thump at my entryway.

Somewhat surprised, I looked behind me to see Maya in a green shirt and dark skirt, resting up against the entryway, holding her in tears. I dropped my brush on the drop material and rushed over to her.

"What's up, Jessica?!" I hadn't called her by her appropriate name in years, and had no clue about why I did now.

She embraced me firmly around the midsection, and I embraced her back, failing to remember I had paint all around my lower arms. Jesus, she smelled pleasant. What an opportunity to have that thought. Blazing back momentarily on my visit to her room, I was somewhat furious with myself.

"That fucking poop hole! He lay down with Katie!" she cried into my shoulder. "How is it that he could do that?"

"Rick?" I asked, realizing it was a dumb inquiry when it got away from my lips. She gestured as she kept wailing into my shirt. I felt the moistness of her tears on my chest and was loaded up with rage. It was pounding me to see her stinging. "Goddamn it, that poop hole."

"I can't completely accept that he did that." she cried. "Also, that prostitute had pictures of it. She showed them to everybody."

"Please accept my apologies, Maya." I continued holding her, needing to improve it some way or another. "It'll be OK."

"I fail to understand how," she wheezed. "I'm through with him."

"I ought to fucking trust so!"

I ended up looking down at her shirt and saw dark paint smirches all around the back and sides of it, matching my hands.

"Goodness poop, Maya! I screwed up your shirt, Please accept my apologies!" I shouted.

She peered down at her shirt, turning it around on her little edge and begun laughing through her tears. "I couldn't care less. It doesn't make any difference."

There was a delay before she sniffed and embraced me once more. "I will go change. In any case, can I... could it be acceptable for me to return later?"

"Without a doubt, sister. That is fine." I thought a second, and then added. "However, it will smell terrible a tad. Simply cautioning you. I'm going to utilize the acetone."

"I wouldn't fret." she unfortunately grinned before she turned and left the room.

I turned on the huge fan I kept in the corner and opened the window prior to breaking out the acetone. Functioning as quick as possible, I tidied up the brushes and cleaned my hands. I utilized as little paint remover as I could and covered the container right away, attempting to downplay the vapor. I had completed the process of cleaning and was returning from scouring my hands with cleanser attempting to kill the smell when she returned. She was clad in my Einsturzende Neubauten shirt and a couple of fighters. Her eyes were as yet rimmed with tears; however she'd tidied up her mascara and seemed to be a furious raccoon now. Seeing her in the shirt helped me to remember the night I'd drawn her resting representation. I felt a bizarre fixing in my chest at the memory, yet shrugged it away.

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." She lies back on my bed and put her head on my pillow. The way my t-shirt laid 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, glancing down at herself.

"That's my shirt, thief." I replied, feeling like an asshole for ogling her. Even more so for having been caught.

She laughed a little, and said "Oh yeah, it's comfy."

Maya kept staring down at the primitive figure on the front of the shirt for a few more moments, and suddenly trembled a bit. "Endy?"

"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 Rick 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 blacked 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 glanced 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 successful art. When your sister looks at your efforts and deems it 'kind of nice'" I laughed.

"Shut up, jackass." she joined me in laughing. "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 glad to see her distracted from dickhead. We chatted for several hours about artwork, music, films, her upcoming 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 become when we were in high school. While I'd gotten heavily into music and skateboarding, Maya had become 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 Plain when I realized she had fallen asleep. Which, admittedly, was pretty much what I expected to happen when I started rambling about black 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 planned.

"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; "come 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, lazy 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 Maya. Her perfect ass pushed up against my groin, my erection rubbing between the cheeks of her ass. I lazily 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 place. My fingers slip free and the motion causes me to snap my eyes open.

The fucks are you doing?! My brain screams as I wake up to realize I'm actually spooned up against her in the bed. I fought not to launch from the bed like a rocket, resulting in simply a startled jerk as I moved my pelvis away from hers as swiftly as I could.

"What was that about?" she asks, looking over her shoulder at me with one barely open eye.

"Sorry, I had a nightmare." I exclaimed, trying to restart my heart and praying she hadn't realized that her brother had just been pressing his dick on her ass, asleep or not. I suspected that I looked something like an animal trapped in a hunter's snare, terrified.

"Didn't feel like a nightmare to me." She said, as she gave a long cat like stretch and impishly grinned at me.

"God damn it," I exhaled, wanting to crawl into the crack between the wall and the bed and disappear.

"Oh relax, Endy" she continued, her eyes still laughing at my obvious panic. "It's just human nature. I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"I'm sorry, that was really fucked up of me." I still hadn't fully convinced myself to breathe. "God damn it."

She laughed. And kept laughing.

"Oh!" she gasped "This is going to be fun."

"What the hell do you me-" I stopped mid-question and was no longer mortified. Panic returned. All of the embarrassed crimson in my face drained to pale white. "Oh no... You wouldn't."

She grinned at me with her most evil grin and sighed, rolling on her back to look up at me playfully, upside down on the bed.

"Yep. Christmas dinner. Thanksgiving at Aunt Linda's. Family reunions. Birthday parties." She had a glint in her eye. "Any time you annoy me, I will just bring up the time we fell asleep in the same bed and you tried to have sex with me in your sleep."

"God damn it." I hung my head. "Move out of the way, I need the space to build up speed when I go out that window."

She laughed merrily. "You are so going to be my bitch."

Maya let me stew in my personal hell a few moments longer, while she cackled gleefully. Then she put her hand on my arm. I looked up at her and marveled at how amazing she looked with her hair all jumbled and falling in her face from sleeping. "I'm kidding, Endy."

"What?" I looked at her, baffled.

"I'm kidding." she looked serious. "I wouldn't do that. What kind of terrible bitch do you think I am? It was an accident. I get it."

I exhaled a little, not sure I bought it, and still wanting to find that crack between the wall and the bed.

"But, damn, it's funny watching you panic." She beamed at me again. She crawled up to her knees and waddled across the bed to me. She gave me a hug, as I did all I could not to flinch away from her. "Thanks for last night. You really helped me deal."

She gave me a completely sister-like kiss on the cheek and walked out of the room.

"I want my shirt back, damn it!" I called after her. It was all I could come up with to say. How is it that she always gets the better of me? My cheek burned where her lips had touched it and I noticed I could still smell her scent in the room. It was heavenly.

* * *

That afternoon I met some friends for lunch at a food court near campus. I was grateful for anything to distract me from thinking about my morning. As I sat munching halfheartedly on something that was sold to me as bourbon chicken and struggled valiantly to taste mediocre, when I spotted Rick sitting with a couple of friends at a table across the food court.

I should leave this alone, I thought. It's not my business. Maya can deal with her own shit. My mind flashed on her standing in my doorway in tears, looking so destroyed and heartbroken. How I felt so powerless to help her afterwards. That was all it took. That piece of shit needed to hear a speech and I was going to give him one. I was probably about to get my ass kicked, and I knew it. But sometimes, it's worth it, right? Hell if I know. I had never been in a fight in my life. I dropped my fork on the table and walked toward him, feeling the world get smaller with every step. I was just going to yell at him for a minute, tell him how badly he hurt her, but seeing he laughing with his friends just boiled my piss further. Their conversation dropped as I reached the table and Rick glanced up at me.

"Hey Ad-" he started before I grabbed his head and shoved it into the table with all my might. His face bounced off the table as an asterisk of blood appeared on the table's surface. I barely registered that it had happened. My eyes were unfocused and I was just seeing a blur. I was overwhelmed with rage, not even thinking anymore.

His friends jumped back as I grabbed him by the hair on the back of his head and jerked him upright.

Blood was dripping on his shirt from his nose.

"A piece of advice, you rotted little cunt," I hissed in his ear, "the next time you decide to break a girl's heart by being the complete scumfuck that you are, make sure she's an only child."

He looked up at me with both hands clasped over his bleeding nose. "You broke my nose, you asshole!"

"Really?" I slammed his head into the table again, hearing a satisfying wet crunching sound, and glared at him "If I hear of you going anywhere near Maya again, or hear of you saying one hurtful thing about her, I'll come back and curb stomp your ass. You're lucky I don't rip your fucking dick off right now and feed it to you, shithead."

I jerked him straighter in the chair and stared dead in his eyes with pure rage. He was really pouring blood from his nose now. It came out between his fingers in little crimson streams. He eyes watered unchecked, and his expression, what I could see of it, was total shock and fear.

"Do you understand me? If she gets hurt again by anything even remotely involving you, I will make this look like nothing. I don't care about jail. I don't care about anything that happens after. You will not be around to see it. You got me, fucker?" I was snarling like a caged animal. My mouth was so dry from the adrenaline and anger that I could barely get the words out.

He nodded at me and I could see in his eyes that he believed me. I released him. He leaned forward on table, grabbing a bunch of napkins for the blood streaming down his face. I would have spit on him if I had been able to generate enough spit to do it.

I walked back, trembling, to my table across the now silent food court where my friends, and pretty much everyone else, stared at me in complete disbelief. Hell, I couldn't believe I had done it, either.

"Holy shit! Endy, what the fuck was that?" John asked me, when I got to the table.

"Dickhead cheated on my sister," I replied after taking a big swig of my bottled water, visibly shaken by what I'd just done. A wave of nausea hit me full force and I fought hard not to vomit.

"Damn, man. I've never seen you that mad." He looked at Rick who was leaving with his friends. There was blood all over the front of Rick's shirt. "That guy's bigger than you. How did you know you could take him?"

"I didn't know I was going to do that." I looked around a moment, wondering what the fuck had gotten into me, as people started talking again. I was getting plenty of looks, though. "I should get out of here before someone calls the cops."

"Yeah, let's go." John and the others grabbed their stuff. A couple of them gave me a playful shove as we walked back to our cars. I wasn't feeling jovial about it, though. I was already starting to think about how the hell I was going to explain myself when Maya got wind of this. Hopefully, she wouldn't find out.

Yeah... Right.

* * *

That night I had the house to myself again. I was kicked back on the bed, in the dark, listening to an old Perished album and sipping a beer. It was well past midnight and I was starting to drift off when I felt a small hand on my chest.

Maya sat on the edge of the bed, looking down at me. I could only make out her silhouette in the shadows, but the smell of her perfume was unmistakable.

"Hey. When did you get home?" I asked, yawning.

"Just a few minutes ago." She replied as she grabbed my beer from the nightstand and took a sip.

"Thief." I mumbled as I reached over and hit the light switch on my desk lamp. I looked up at her and took in the way the soft light fell across her face. Her eyes were still rimmed in sadness. It would take a little while before she was over Rick, I suspected. But, goddamn, she was beautiful. Suddenly self conscious about the way I found myself looking at her, I blinked away and reached for my beer.

She held up a finger at me and took a big swig from the bottle before passing it back. I polished it off and set the empty on the nightstand.

"So," she began, "my big brother is full of surprises lately."

"Oh?" I had a feeling where this was headed, but elected to play dumb and hope for the best. "Which one is that?"

"The only one I have." She responded quietly. "From what I hear, he beat the shit out of my ex-boyfriend at the Seventh Street food court today."

"Sounds like your big brother is an impulsive, immature jackass who should have stayed out of it to me." I sighed, resolutely looking away from her, pretending to be highly interested the goings on outside the bedroom window.

"Well, he can certainly be a jackass sometimes." She took my hand and squeezed it, "but I love that he cares and wants to protect me anyway."

"I wish I could say that's what it was," I replied. "But that wouldn't be entirely true."

Maya gave me a curious look.

"I didn't set out to kick his ass today. I was at the food court with some friends and happened to notice him there. He was laughing at cutting up with his little buddies. I just flashed back on how hurt and upset you were last night... and I just... I saw red." I sighed. "I just reacted with stupid macho bullshit. I'm kind of ashamed of it, to be honest."

"Well, don't be. He's an asshole." She smiled softly, "I have to admit, I was shocked when I heard what you did. But it also made me realize that we hadn't grown apart as much I thought we had. I like knowing that."

I looked over at her and she locked her beautiful blue eyes on mine. Neither of us said anything for a moment. I was unsure what to say, still genuinely embarrassed by my lack of self control, and who knows what she was thinking.

Finally, she spoke "Did you really call him a rotted cunt?" I had never heard her use that word, and was briefly taken aback.

"Um... Yeah. I think I did. I don't really remember." Did I call him that? Wow. I was pissed off.

"That's kind of gross, Endy." She made a face at me. "Even if it's true."

We both chuckled at that as she stood up to leave. "I'm glad you're okay. I don't mean to imply anything, but he's quite a bit bigger than you."

"People have been enjoying pointing that out to me today." I sighed.

When she got to the doorway, she looked back at me for a moment.

"I'm going to have to remember that line the next time some chick pisses me off. Rotted cunt has a nice ring to it." With that, she disappeared to her bedroom.

* * *

A few weeks passed, pretty much like normal until one morning as I sat at the bar in the kitchen sipping a cup of coffee when Maya came wandering into the kitchen wearing my This Mortal Coil shirt. She cut her half open eyes at me and mumbled something to the effect of "caffeine" but I wasn't entirely sure. Reaching for a coffee cup from the cabinet with her back to me, her (my) shirt pulled up, revealing her magnificent ass that was covered in only a pair of blue bikini cut panties. I had to discreetly adjust myself as my erection was instantaneous.

"Don't you have any clothes of your own?" I mumbled, motioning to my shirt.

"Yeah, but yours are more comfortable to sleep in." She grinned a little.

"Uh huh." I sipped my coffee and tried like hell to get the image of the perfect ass that I had just seen off of my mind. It felt like it was burned into my retinas as if I had stared at the sun.

"What are you doing today? Are you off?" She asked as she leaned against the bar over her coffee, thrusting her ass back from her body, which again called my attention to her lovely shape.

"I don't really have anything planned." I stretched "Maybe hit the bar tonight with the guys."

"But nothing today?"

"Not really."

"Would you like to hang out with me?" She asked, a little bashfully. "Maybe go walk the nature trails in the park or something? It's supposed to be a nice day out."

I thought about it a moment, then nodded. "Sure. Sounds like fun."

I could feel the smile emitting from her before I even glanced up to see it.

"Awesome! We're going to have so much fun!" She practically bounced out of the kitchen to go get ready. I have to admit, her excitement was a little infectious.

A short while later, I showered and dressed in tan cargo shorts and a blue Radiohead shirt. I packed the car with my backpack of art supplies (I always had a sketchbook or two with me), bottled water, soft drinks, a blanket, cookware, ice chest, and a few other bits. Maya came out to the car wearing a pair of cut offs and a loose fitting gray shirt. Her long black hair was pulled up in a ponytail, exposing her sensual neck. She was gorgeous.

"What's all this for?" She asked, motioning to the backseat.

"I thought we could use one of the grills at the park and cook some burgers later."

"Sounds perfect!" She exclaimed as she hopped in the car.

We arrived at the park by mid-morning and mercifully, it wasn't yet crowded. We spent the rest of the morning walking the nature trails, as we had loved to do when we were children. We talked a lot about different memories we had shared coming to this park all of our lives, and mostly just enjoyed the sun and each others' company. I couldn't help noticing how delicate her hands looked when she slapped at a bug, rubbing her neck where it had been climbing on her. She just seemed like such an exquisite and otherworldly creature to me, and I couldn't seem to shake the hold that she had on my mind.

When we got back to the picnic area, I got the coals started on the grill and began sketching piles of driftwood at the edge of the lake desperately trying not to stare at Maya stretched out on the blanket, taking in the sun. There were more people in the park now, and a couple of guys came by and started flirting with Maya. I felt pangs of jealousy that I did my best to stamp out by concentrating on the grill and resolutely ignoring them. I was beginning to think I was seriously fucked up in the head. She was my sister, for crying out loud. What the hell was I thinking? Maya was gracious with them, but finally sent them on their way, much to my relief.

After lunch, we packed everything back in the car, and I suggested we rent a canoe to paddle the lake. Maya thought it was a great idea, and we had a fun time paddling out along the waterline far from the camp site and all the people that were around there. I took advantage of being seated to the rear of the canoe for paddling reasons and allowed myself to gaze longingly at her many times because her back was to me. I loved watching the way the sun worshiped her skin, perspiration lightly glistening on her neck and upper back like a glaze. Thankfully, it was a beautiful day out, and Maya enjoyed looking at the birds and other wildlife that congregated around the lake. I caught a small turtle that she thought was adorable and let it wander around in the bottom of the canoe for a few minutes before she begrudgingly released it back into the water. The delighted expression she kept on her face as she played with the turtle was far more adorable than the admittedly cute little turtle could ever be. After several hours that passed faster than I would have liked, we headed home. It was the best time I had spent with anyone in quite a long time.

* * *

Over the next several weeks, Maya started hanging out at home more frequently. She would often come up to my room after dinner and do homework while I painted. Sometimes she'd talk endlessly about different topics as I prepped canvasses and mixed paints, but she seemed to understand that I needed quiet when I was actually working on a design. When I was painting, she would keep quiet and focus on her studies, read, and once in a while, take a nap.

She took a liking to some of the music I played while I worked, and would occasionally request that I make her a copy of some of it. I was amused when she told me that she finally got around to looking up some Einsturzende Neubauten songs and, while she liked the shirt that she had stolen from me, she couldn't understand what I found appealing about the band. I laughed and told her it was an acquired taste.

I found that I genuinely enjoyed her company a great deal, and would sometimes wind up in a debate of some kind or another and get nowhere on the painting I was working on. She was smart, very likely smarter than me, funny, easy to talk to, and had some idea of what she wanted to do with her life, which was more than I could claim.

She liked to travel, and was leaving for Rome soon, a two week trip she had been planning with a couple of friends for several years. They'd saved up for it from their part time jobs and finally had set a date between semesters. I would have loved to see Rome and other parts of Europe Me one day, and we spoke of different places we'd like to visit. I found it hard to keep my eyes off of her, as she would often turn up in her pajamas, which usually consisted of boxer shorts and a t-shirt. She made my life even more complicated when she would turn up after the gym, in tights or running shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt over a sports bra, which accentuated the curves of her breasts. On those occasions, I would try to keep my back to her and keep myself busy, stealing glances at her incredible ass or the swell of her breasts when I felt it was safe to risk doing so.

Somewhat to my dismay, however, I found my attraction to her was not purely physical. She invaded my thoughts at all times of the day and night. For her part, she seemed to enjoy being around me as well. She started texting me while she was in class or while I was at work, telling me about the goings on in her day, or asking me the name of some song or another that I'd had playing when she was around that she wanted to listen to. Her optimism, kind heart, and enthusiasm for life was unbelievably refreshing for me, as I spent much of my time being an introverted hermit, painting away in my room. My friends were all wise asses and bitter artist types. More than once, I found myself wondering why she would want to hang out with me.

The rekindling of our childhood closeness, while not intentional, seemed to please our mother a lot, too. I sometimes spotted mom smiling at us from the corner of my eye when we would hang out together watching TV in the living room or the like. It was all a lot to take in. Guilt gnawed at me for feeling the way that I did about her, but I felt powerless to change it. It was a dead end, and I knew it. There was nothing to hope for here. No future. Just pining away stupidly over something I could never have. I needed to distract myself.

* * *

Miley stared at my painting while she chewed her thumbnail, seemingly deep in thought. A little more than a month had passed since the incident in the food court, and she had come by my place to see some of my latest paintings at her own insistence. She slowly moved back and forth down the row of paintings I had leaning against the wall, but kept coming back to the same one.

It was light colored painting, unusual for me, measuring 36 x 48 inches, with light hues of blue, green and yellow throughout. Although it was done in acrylic, it gave off a look similar to a watercolor. The abstract images seemed to form loosely into figures interweaving, sometimes meeting to embrace and sometimes not. The figures were only hinted at, and never fully formed so that the viewer's mind would have to fill in the gaps to realize what they were seeing. From a distance, if one did not focus their eyes on the image and looked at it from the side, there was a very faint depiction of a female face holding an expression of ecstasy into the image that took up the entire canvas. The face was buried under layers and layers of texture, more hinted at than fleshed out. I was quite pleased with the end result. On the surface, it didn't look much different from a lot of my art, color scheme aside, but I had worked very hard to blend in elements of the things I was trying to convey with this one, and I felt like it worked.

"This one," Miley said, speaking around her thumbnail, "there is something about this one. It's really erotic somehow."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" I asked.

"Oh it's good, it's very good." She looked up at me. "I've never seen you do anything I thought was erotic before."

"Really? Damn. I thought I had moves." I smirked. "Guess I need to try harder in the sack."

She started ...