"You weren't here last night. You didn't hear the way they talked. The one in charge made it sound like the rape was my fault. If I lived in a bank vault, I couldn't have prevented it!"
"Sure, Sis, sure. Just keep calm," he said, his arm around her shoulders. He pulled her close and kissed her.
He had to admit the police lieutenant probably wouldn't have understood the real problem with Lisa. She was beautiful but knew it only because others told her. The way her tits flared out impudently against the thin fabric of her T-shirt was incitement to riot as well as rape. She simply couldn't see this.
She couldn't see at all. And not seeing, she had no basis for comparison. She hardly believed she could be attractive to a man because the concept was based so much on seeing.
If the detective had seen her dressed in the T-shirt without a bra, her nipples tiny mushrooms on the white cotton fabric and those skin-tight jeans Lisa insisted on wearing, he would have been right thinking she was asking to be raped.
Steve knew better. Lisa dressed in what she felt comfortable in, that was her only consideration. That men would be turned on by the way she dressed was a vague concept she could accept intellectually, but not emotionally.
"I've looked over the place before I came in. There's no one around who shouldn't be here. The Hotchkiss kids were playing in the empty lot but they're home eating dinner probably. You might have heard them coming after their ball. Or it might have been the wind rustling the tree. I doubt it was anything more than that."
She clung to his arm, uncomfortably close. Did Lisa realize the way she was hanging onto him was most un-sisterly? Steve couldn't tell.
"I'm glad you came over, Steve. After Carl left, I… I just didn't know what to do!"
"That doesn't sound like you at all, Lisa. You're the independent one. At least, you're always telling me that. Ever since Mom and Dad died, you have gotten okay."
She fell silent for a moment, then suddenly said, "If it's safe outside, why don't I mix us a couple drinks for us and we can go sit on the back patio? It's so nice this time of year."
"Okay. Make mine the usual."
"The usual bourbon on the rocks or the usual screwdriver?" she asked.
"Bourbon. I need something nice and fiery hot down in my belly right now to soothe my nerves."
He couldn't interpret her smile or the cryptic, "Yeah, I know. I need something flew hot in my belly, too." With a quick twist she was gone. Steve might have been imagining it but it seemed as if his little sister gave her ass a little more wiggle than she usually did.
Going outside, he found it as pleasant a night as Lisa had promised. He sat in the double-seat swing and gently rocked back and forth, thinking. This might be a figment of his imagination, the way Lisa was coming on to him. He'd tried living down his feelings of lust for her ever since he'd been sixteen and she was only thirteen.
Even then, he'd seen more of a woman in her than most of the chicks he was dating in high school.
But society told him such longings were sick. He couldn't do anything as perverted as actually lusting after his own sister.
He did. But he was frustrated because he knew his more-than-brotherly-love could never amount to anything. Still, the thought crept into his mind that Lisa might have been as turned on by him as he was by her.
The way she was acting tonight suggested that.
His cock spasmed when she came through the lighted doorway. She was silhouetted perfectly by the bright light behind her. Tits jutted in a luscious display of tit flesh. The mounds were high and firm and big enough to satisfy any man.
And her legs! Encased though they were in the heavy denim jeans, he could see they were long, slender and could crush the very life out of a man if they were wrapped around his waist. And if she were that close, his cock would just have to be buried far up her tight little twat.
Steve didn't doubt for a second his sister had a cunt that could give a man intense pleasure. He wasn't sure about her relations with other men. She never mentioned her affairs, even with Carl. He knew she was no virgin. He also knew his cock wouldn't stay down.
He wanted to fuck her.
"Where are you, Steve? Oh, there you are!" She unerringly turned and came toward his seat in the quiet dark corner of the porch. His slight movement had caused the chains to squeak revealing his location to her.
She held out his drink. Suddenly his mouth felt filled with cotton. He gripped the glass as if his very life depended on it and downed the contents in one quick gulp. The amber fluid burned all the way down into his stomach where it pooled and began chewing away at his guts.
"You must be thirsty," she said. "Or something's bothering you. What is it?"
She sat disturbingly close to him. Her thigh pressed warmly against his. And the way she turned her blind eyes directly to his made him think she might not see his face but could look all the way into his soul.
"I'm just a little uptight over the stuff you've told me."
"Oh, don't be, Steve!" Her hand reached out and lightly touched his wrist. He jumped as if she'd stuck him with a needle.
"Steve! What's wrong, darling?"
"Nothing. Really, I… never mind." He wasn't able to cope with the way his prick was slowly rising in response to his illicit desire for her. And it slowly penetrated his brain she'd called him darling. She'd never done that before.
"Look, Lisa, what is it you want from me?"
"Nothing, Steve. Well, maybe company. I was so lonely. I felt clit off from everyone for the first time since Mother and Daddy were killed."
The plaintive tone in her voice quelled his thoughts that she was after him sexually. But that still didn't help his own desire for her.
"Well, if there's nothing else I can do, I'd better be going. Ins out on the road a long time and I'm tired."
"Wait! Don't go yet, please." Her hand reached out but missed his arm. She had her palm against his crotch. It was purely accident. After all, she couldn't see and he had been starting to stand.
Or was it accident? He couldn't tell. That robbed his legs of their strength and he fell back into the swing.
"I need you more than ever, Steve. I don't know how to say this. You've been my big brother, sure, but there's always been more. Like this."
Her hand rubbed over his crotch. There was no way he could hide his erection from her supple, well-educated fingers. Those fingers could detect the tiny bumps of a Braille text. There was no way they could miss the huge cylinder of his full erect cock struggling to be free of his jeans.
"I don't know what you mean," he lied.
"You do. We both know. I want you as much as you want me. Comfort me, darling, really comfort me. And you know how I mean!"
Her hand moved with the speed of light. There was a metallic hiss and his zipper was open. His prick snapped to rigid attention. Her fingers curled around it and gently stroked up and down.
"Lisa, please. We… I can't! This isn't right. It'll be incest!"
"Incest," she spat out. "That's just a scare word. What difference does it make to us? You're not going to knock me up. I'm on the pill. All that matters is what we feel! And I feel you wanting me!"
She tugged insistently at his cock.
For a moment, he couldn't decide if she was right or wrong. Then it no longer mattered.
He leaned forward and kissed her. The kiss wasn't a chaste, brotherly one. It was tender and passionate and insistent and demanding. He wanted her in his arms, writhing with joy, coupling with abandon.
He wanted to fuck the hell out of his sister!
And she obviously wanted him as badly.
Their mouths met and their tongues crashed into each other in their hurry for total arousal. Dancing wildly, their tongues caressed and stroked and gently massaged each other until both were breathing heavily.
Her hand on his cock, she pulled him down on top of her. The swaying of the swing seemed to add to their desire. It hinted at an ages-old motion of fucking. Before he knew it, his hands were working and unfastening the snap of her jeans.