Date: Fri, 28 Oct 2005 22:47:34 -0700 (PDT) From: Jane Doe Subject: Another Night Wasted, Part 6 The kiss isn't at all what I expected. I couldn't tell you what I expected... I don't really know myself. But there in the dark, with the movie playing in the background, the whole world consisted of that kiss, the warmth, the passion, the tenderness and the hunger in it. It's like she wants to devour me, and all I can do is submit and let her take from me what she desires. Except she's giving me back something too. Her hand slides around to the back of my neck, holding me there, mouths pressed together, lips melded and tongues exploring each other's mouths, feeling, tasting. But it's more than ice cream being shared, it lasts long past the sweet cream and chocolate. She's pouring out her heart to me, I can feel it, every repressed feeling, all her lust, all her love, all her shame and anger, she's sharing it all with me. And I drink it all in, because to me it's the sweetest nectar in the world, more sustaining than mothers milk and more precious than ambrosia or the philosopher's stone. When we finally break apart I'm left breathless, and I pull back a bit to make an attempt at gathering my thoughts. She's staring at me in the darkness, face half lit by the glow of the television and it makes me ache to see the uncertainty written across her features. Her eyes are like the midnight sky and I see such profound desire in them as well. Our eyes meet for a moment and I can't help but look away from the intensity in her gaze, it's all too overwhelming. My heart is hammering in my chest and I'm almost gasping for breath. Why the fuck did I do that? Why did I stop? What the hell am I supposed to do now? I look up and meet her gaze once again. "Jen, I..." She cuts me off as she darts forward, kissing me this time. I can't resist the sirens call of her lips, or the heat growing in the pit of my stomach, nor do I think I would want to. I slowly lean back towards the arm of the couch and she moves with me, sliding up on top of me, her heat and weight pressing into me. My arms slide around her waist and I trail my hands slowly up and down the curves of her back, along her spine and down her ribs, learning every contour, every plane and every angle. No boy has ever been like this, so soft, even in her most consuming moments of passion, so ardently adoring, so giving... not even Lucy was like this, it's indescribable. The scent of her, the taste of her, the feel of her on top of me, her hands wandering, somewhere between greedy and worshipful. We spend what seems like forever like that on the couch, kissing, touching, tasting, breathing the same breath as though we were one. I abandon myself to her completely as I never have with anyone else, shivering as her hands pass over my stomach and breasts, a tingle of pleasure running through me, centering where she touches me but the feeling spreading, radiating outwards from her hands, running through my body like fire and sending chills up and down my spine. I let her touch me where no one has, but then again, she's not touching me like anyone else has. She pulls away from me, looking up and over me, and all I can process is how absolutely gorgeous she looks in that moment. Her head cocked ever so slightly, hair a bit mussed, I reach up and smooth it out, letting the silky strands slide trough my fingers. I try to pull her down into another kiss, but she shushes me, resisting my pull. She puts a finger to my lips and I gently pull it into my mouth and suck on it as I notice the movie has returned to it's title screen, and I hear the slamming of a car door out front, signaling the return of our father from work. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ She kissed me... she actually kissed me. Not at all a sisterly kiss either. It was everything I'd ever imagined, and more. Our eyes are locked but she breaks the contact and looks away... is she going to apologize? Or worse yet, say it was horrid and wrong and that we should never speak of it again, much less do it again? God, I can't let that happen. I don't even hear the words when she starts talking, I just have to kiss her again... and again, and again. She seems to melt back and I follow her, not willing to let our contact be broken again. This is heaven. It's almost like making love with our mouths, penetrating deep inside one another, sharing the most intimate, hidden pieces of ourselves, all in a kiss. The wetness, the softness of her lips, breathing in as she breathes out, just as we did that day. My hands start roaming of their own volition, first over her sides, then I push myself up on one elbow so my other hand is free to slide over her stomach and hips... eventually straying ever farther upwards, skirting around the swells of her breasts and then finally gently cupping one, then the other, my thumb finding her nipples tense under her shirt, tracing around them and then passing over them. They're supple and soft in my hand, nothing like touching my own... I could get lost in this, and I do for a long time. To feel her soft moans in my mouth, the vibrations sending shivers through me and her body's writhing almost enough to make me come. Then I more feel than see the light, only for a moment but enough to catch my attention. I push myself up, listening for a sound that might indicate Dad's arrival. I know she's looking at me, trying to get my attention again... her fingers running through my hair is a distraction, and how I wish I could let her pull me down when she tries. My heart leaps with joy when I realize what Lana just did. Maybe it's just the heat of the moment, but she wants more... her other hand is still sliding over my back, and I almost tremble with the effort of resisting her, putting a finger on those soft, still wet lips to keep her quiet. She begins sucking on my forefinger, the soft yet almost rough surface of her tongue teasing at its tip. My body is quivering and I'm about to return to her when I hear it, the car door closing, heralding a major disruption. She's caught on as well and we move like one, I sit up and snatch the remote, going for a random scene selection as she sits up, smoothing her hair and adjusting her clothes, then giving me a smile that tempts me to kiss her again. Instead I just lean against her and pull the afghan down over us, and we're curled up, innocent as can be, when Dad comes through the door. He gives us a brief nod, looking tired as always, then heads upstairs without even asking about dinner. Once he's out of sight we both let out soft sighs of relief, and I wonder if she was holding her breath like I was. I glance over at her, grinning my fool head off, and a smile slowly spreads on her face as well, until neither of us can hold back the giggles. We collapse against one another, giggling like mad. Her arms slide around me once again and I eventually come to rest, head on her shoulder, face against her neck, curled in against her, stroking her neck with my fingertips. I take a deep breath in, filling my lungs with the perfume of her skin and her hair before giving her neck a soft nuzzle. "Lana?" "Yeah?" she asks, kissing my hair before burying her face in it, seemingly enjoying the closeness as much as I am. "I love you." She's quiet for a moment, but it's not a tense quiet. She squeezes me gently, nuzzling the top of my head and planting a few kisses before responding, lending the quiet a soft affection rather than weighing it down with anxiety. "I love you too, my little miscreant." I can hear the smile in her voice and I laugh softly, giving one of her nipples a little tweak. She hums out a soft noise of pleasure and frustration, sliding one of her hands down to give me a light smack on the butt. I can't help but grin and giggle and soon we're giddy again, laughing softly, mindful of Dad's presence upstairs. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Dear God she's beautiful. Laying against me like this, small and vulnerable and sweet, sheltering against my body, I can feel her adoration and love running through me. I'm in one of those moments of pure contentment, the bliss of emotion without thought. Feeling like this I can understand why she likes sleeping with me so much. I hold her close and never want to let her go. Her hair has a strange, subtle fragrance. It makes me feel almost high, though I know that's more because of what we've been doing than any actual component of the scent... but it's gorgeous regardless. It's just like her presence. Understated, delicate, hard to define and utterly intoxicating. Somewhere in the back of my brain a voice is trying to scream at me, tell me this is wrong. It's amazingly easy to ignore it though. She seems so perfect right now and it felt so right... feels so right. I love her and she loves me. What could be wrong with that? I idly stroke her hair and actually start paying attention to the movie, in a vague sort of way. Her steady breathing lulls me into a perfect state of calm, the rhythms of my heart, my hand and her chest gently rising and falling, all blending together to create a trancelike beat. By the end of the movie there are soft tears slipping down my cheeks, its statements of love and loss having taken root in my heart. I give the top of her head a kiss and make a promise to myself first, and then to her. "Jen." She looks up at me, smiling faintly. "Good movie, eh?" "I'll never leave you. Never. No matter what." She just smiles and settles in against me once again. That's all the response I need. No questions, no return vows. Her body speaks of trust and faith and devotion more eloquently than any writer or poet could. I'm everything to her, or I will be. Such an odd thought. I'm her big sister, the closest she's ever known to a mother... and now... I know in my heart where this might lead, but I can't bring myself to think of it like that yet. Yet. Someday... maybe even someday soon... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We just lie there for a while after the movie ends, everything too perfect to want to move and ruin it. Or maybe just afraid that if we move it will be ruined. Finally I push myself up, out of her arms and she watches me as I stand. Hey eyes are like dark pools, her hair a dark golden red sheet where the light is hitting it, and I smile down at her as I offer my hand. This isn't normal, she's usually the one in charge. Even so, I guide her to a standing position and slide my arms around her neck, pulling her into a soft, closed mouth kiss. No, nothing has changed, nothing has been ruined by getting up. So I slide a hand down and take one of hers, leading her slowly upstairs to her room. I simply shed my jeans and watch her as she slowly gets changed, right there in front of me. Her back is to me, but somehow that makes it all the more tantalizing. She pulls her shirt up, slowly exposing the small of her back, then the smooth expanses up to her shoulder blades, divided by the line of her spine. My mouth is dry, remembering the feel of that soft, white skin under my hands, it's smoothness and warmth... she pulls the shirt off over her head, the muscles of her back flexing and sliding smoothly under her skin. I want to reach out and touch her, but instead I just watch. She takes what seems like an eternity to slide her pants down and off, exposing first the firm, rounded curve of her ass, covered only by white bikini underwear... white cotton... so very her. It's hard to swallow and my heart is thundering as my eyes take in the smooth, taut lengths of her legs. Her thighs, the curves running down to her calves, long and toned, her skin, fair and almost luminous, no matter how hard she tries to tan. She leans over and steps out of her pants, and I want to feel her back and legs as she moves them, all of her actions slow and deliberate. I remember how she writhed and quivered beneath me, the heat that was nearly exploding off of both of our bodies. I spy a brief glimpse of a wet patch on her underwear as she straightens, evidence of the effect I had on her. It almost makes me proud of myself. I can't focus on just one part as she stands there before me, shrouded only in her hair and her panties. My eyes greedily slide over every inch of her I can see, devouring the visage of her flowering womanhood. Her hips are a soft curve, the lines of her sides stretching upwards, her legs down. She's standing on one foot, the other bent and gently toeing the carpet next to her firmly planted foot. I can imagine her chewing her lip, deciding on what to wear. I can't fathom what would make it a hard decision but I'll enjoy her deliberations none the less. Not one movement is lost on me, all my attention is so focused on her. She crosses her arms across her chest for a moment then rests a hand on her hip, her body taking on a new posture that illuminates new aspects of her form, the flow of her stances, her stunning grace. She finally reaches into her closet, pulling out an old dress shirt of Dad's, worn soft through years of wear. She pulls it on and turns around without buttoning it, smiling as I gape at the strip of naked flesh, running from below her navel all the way up, over her firm stomach to her chest, just barely showing the beginning of the swells of her breasts, to the hollow of her throat. I feel as if I'm frozen as she walks over to me, sitting on the edge of her bed, and cradles my head to her chest. My arms move of their own volition around her waist and I kiss the smooth valley at the center of her chest, slowly standing and letting my mouth wander up over her collarbone and neck. Her sighs and moans into my ear are soft but heartfelt, and we fall back onto the bed. Between kisses we slowly right ourselves on the bed and slide under the covers. Our legs twine together as eagerly as our tongues and we wrap around one another, getting fully entangled, breathing deeply when the kisses stop. I look into those soft, aqua eyes of hers and love everything I see there. Her smile is brilliant, even in the darkness. "I love you, you sweet, sweet thing." Her voice is soft, but clear in the silence of the house. "How long have you been thinking about... well... this?" I can feel myself blushing and looking away, but she catches my chin and gives me a lingering kiss, sending a chill down my spine and causing me to press in against her body. "Jen, there's nothing to be ashamed of, nothing you can't share with me. Haven't we proven that already?" "Well... we haven't done everything yet..." I try for a bit of an impish grin, not fully understanding my embarrassment but wanting to hide it all the same. Her laugh is like a silver chime, cutting through my darker feelings and leaving only the urge to laugh along with her. I smile, looking to her willingly again, shaking my head a bit. "Well? You haven't answered me." She's smiling in return, and stroking my cheek. Her eyes are curious but not judgmental, warm and loving. How can I resist a look like that? "Since after the accident. I mean... it was terrifying... You were bloody and not moving... I kissed you then. I mean... we kind of kissed. I don't know what I meant. It's not all clear..." I'm blushing again, stumbling over my words until her finger on my lips shushes me. She's got a wry little smile on her lips and her eyes are sparkling with amusement. "I'm sorry I don't remember our fist kiss then. It might have made things easier on you if I had... then again... who knows how I would've reacted then. The important thing is now. I love you, you love me. We both know it, we're both dealing with it, right?" All I can do is nod. "Let's not rush into things though, no reason to hurry through what we might enjoy a whole lot." She's smiling, a tinge of wickedness in her eyes. I think it's the sexiest look she's ever given me, inviting, teasing, but still loving. I settle in against her, lightly kissing her neck and nestling my head on her shoulder again. Slowly I drift off to sleep, keeping her close, kissing and lightly sucking on her neck as she strokes my hair, listening to her heartbeat. Sleep has never come so easily. ~Bit of a postscript on this one, you might think you need to have seen Lost and Delirious to understand the bit with the movie. I assure you, you don't. All you need to know is that it has a very, very sad ending. Aside from that, I want to say thank you all for reading, and the e-mails I've gotten. It's wonderful to know people are enjoying this. Luv y'all, Jane~