Fifteen Minutes of Fame

"No! No, that's not it. It's not that I don't want this." She squirmed slightly, averting her eyes. "I'm just... I'm not actually ready yet. Not quite there."

"Ah." The slow route, then. I wasn't about to complain. "Maybe I can fix that. Shouldn't take long."

"Cocky motherfucker, aren't yyyyyoooo..." She jerked slightly and trailed off, exhaling in a hiss between clenched teeth, as my hand found her breast, fingers tracing circles around her nipple.

I raised an eyebrow. "Awfully sensitive for a lowly whore. Unless you're faking to make me feel better, which would be touching if it weren't so stupid."

Pam punched me in the arm, but there seemed less force in it than usual. "Asshole. Your hand is really fucking cold."

"Not as cold as your icy heart, dear sister of mine." I leaned forward over her, and my lips met the smooth skin of her chest without the spasm my fingers had provoked. After a moment's blind searching, I found one of her tits and latched on, gently sucking on it and listening to her breathing speed up. An exploratory nip of my teeth—

"No biting." Her voice was firm, but not accusatory. "I'm not a fucking chew toy."

Again, I was in no position to raise any objections. Pam was naked underneath me, I had my face mashed against her chest, and my right hand was somewhere on her thigh and sliding towards her crotch. Life was pretty damn good.

I kept working at her breast, running circles around the nipple with my tongue, and I made sure to keep my teeth well clear of Pam's skin. At the same time, my fingers finally found their way between her legs.

I ran my forefinger across the outer lips of her pussy, enjoying the slight movements the act triggered in her. She was somewhat wet, but not enough to make it fun for either of us if she hadn't stopped me from going forward with proper penetration. There was enough moisture for a finger, though, so I slid one in. Propped up on my other arm, I started exploring, sliding in and out as I felt around inside of Pam.

She was enjoying it, I could tell, even though she was still trying to put on a stoic face. I finally pulled my lips away from her nipple and slid my mouth up her breast, tasting the slight sheen of sweat that had gathered on her skin. She had one hand on my head, lightly clutching at my hair, and the other might have been grabbing the sheets or something. It wasn't really something I was concerned about.

A second finger, now. She was getting wetter, and I had less resistance moving inside her. My heart still wasn't quieting down, not that I expected it to. All of my senses were focused on the shifting body beneath me, my ears full of the sound of her ragged breathing, my whole being straining to figure out what worked best, what she responded to, what made her excited. I moved my head up farther, running lips over more of her chest, landing soft kisses on her neck. Finally I curled my fingers into a hook, reaching up and in, pressing against the inner wall of her sex. Pam's hand tightened on my hair, pulling it to the point of actually being painful, but I didn't care. It meant I was doing something right, after all, and I kept doing it.

I was still kissing my way up her body, somewhere between her ear and shoulder, when Pam's fingers curled around my cock, making me jump a little. Her voice was quiet but insistent: "Now."

"Now," I murmured back, my mouth still on her neck. I slid my fingers out of her and dragged them up her stomach, leaving a trail of her wetness across her skin. Her hand drew me closer, and, even through the condom, I felt the tip of my dick brush the outer lips of her pussy. Trusting her to handle the aiming process, I pushed myself in and forward, and—

Oh holy fuck.

It wasn't even like she was all that different, down there, from the couple of other girls I'd been with. Maybe a little bit tighter, but that could have been my imagination. It was the context. It was the utter wrongness of the whole thing. It was the thought that this was someone I'd known since childhood, who I'd spent more time with than anyone else, who I cared about and who cared about me no matter how much shit we gave each other, and now we were closer than we'd ever been. Physically, anyway. Emotionally, this probably still took a backseat to the time we both got completely shitfaced drunk and talked about how much our lives sucked for a night and helped each other puke in the morning, but this was a pretty close second.

It was incredible. It was way, way more than that.

For a long second I just lay there, my groin pressed against hers, savoring the moment. And I looked down at Pam and I realized that this was probably the first time I'd ever seen her actually relaxed. Maybe even content.

It didn't last long. "I sure hope you didn't come just now. Not after all that buildup."

"I might, just for you saying that." I started rocking my lower body back and forth, just a couple of inches at a time. Small movements at an uneven pace, sometimes slower, other times in quick succession, trying not to fall into a rhythm. I don't know why that's what I was doing, but it seemed to be the right idea, or at least not a bad one. And it was definitely working for me.

Then again, I didn't need much more than a moist hole, and preferably a warm one, to get off. But this was much better than anything I could do on my own. And the fact that Pam seemed to be enjoying it, too, made it loads better.

Speaking of Pam... I decided to switch things up, as this sort of in-and-out probably wasn't doing a huge amount of good for her. She'd been nice enough to go along with this; I owed her something back.

Well, I didn't, at least not in that sense. This wasn't just her saying "Yeah, fine, fuck me and get it over with." It was her idea. Maybe this was thanking her for coming up with it? I decided not to think too hard about it.

I pulled about halfway out and adjusted my position, putting more weight on my arms and less on my legs. Then I pushed back in, hard, and sort of swiveled my hips, grinding that space above my cock against roughly the same area on her. "Oh." Pam's voice cut out for a second. "That's... that's pretty good."

"Yeah?" I pulled back and repeated the process, trying to get as much skin-to-skin contact as possible. "Hitting the right spot, more or less?"

"Yeah." Her breath hitched slightly. "Yeah, pretty much right on." I smiled at that, but there was already a growing pressure in my mind, and thinking about my sister's clit wasn't exactly helping me last longer. "Kind of you, Carl. More of this and I might think you like me or something."

"Wouldn't want... you to get... the wrong impression," I hissed out, the pauses between every two or three words punctuated by another rotating thrust of my hips. "I'm only... making the effort... so that you... can be convincing tomorrow. Make 'em think... I'm worth having."

I'd been slapped by my sister enough times that her raised hand made me flinch away from pure reflex, but I wasn't fast enough to pull back—not that I wanted to, as that would have meant stopping what I was doing. But I almost did completely stop when I felt her hand gently cup the side of my face. Kindness was not something I was used to from her, and her words didn't make me any more comfortable with it. "You're a terrible liar. And I already think you're worth having."

"...Thanks." I couldn't think of anything else to say that wouldn't have sounded disgustingly sentimental. Maybe if I hadn't been balls-deep in her I'd have been able to come up with something a bit better, but I guess I just had other things on my mind. "Anything else... I should be doing?"

Eyes closed, Pam shook her head. "No, this is... this is great, for now."

"Fine with... missionary, then?"

She laughed in a breathless sort of way. "It's fine, stop sounding worried. You're enjoying this. So am I. Plus this way you can look at me, right?"

"Right. God you're hot." I was so intent on keeping my rhythm, and not firing off prematurely, that the words came out as grunts.

"You're not too bad-looking either, you know." Her voice seemed to be coming from a distance.

I stayed with it, swiveling my lower body as much as I could with each push forward, trying to produce some sound from her, but she seemed as quiet as I tended to be in bed. Funny, really, considering how much of a pair of fucking loudmouths we were when we weren't fucking. But even if she wasn't shouting my name or moaning or anything—and, to be honest, either of those would have really freaked me out—she was really into it. Every time I hit the limit of my length, her inhalation (or exhalation, whichever happened to be closest to the timing) happened with a little more force, and she was pushing against me, trying to get us even closer together.

I was holding it back through sheer willpower, now, trying to think about anything and everything that wasn't directly related to the moment. It was working, sort of, but I had the feeling I wouldn't last much longer. "How... how close are you?"

"Maybe twenty seconds." It was barely a whisper.

"That's... that's awfully precise."

"Hah. Fuck off. I know my body pretty..." She lost focus, trailing off mid-sentence, and I watched her jaw tighten. And just in time, as I was seriously on the verge of losing what little composure I had left. And so I let go.

I stopped thinking about rubbing up against her, stopped thinking about rhythm or timing or, really, anything at all. All I knew was that I wanted to be inside, as deep inside as possible, and that's exactly what I did. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her close, maybe getting another quarter inch of depth with the effort, and convulsed as I felt the orgasm hit. A bunch of short, sharp thrusts happened without conscious thought as I came, feeling wave after wave hit, my mind going blank with the force of it. I was dimly aware that Pam, too, was moving, gasping for breath as what felt like her whole body shook beneath me, every muscle in every limb tensing up. It lasted a couple of seconds, but it felt like a hell of a lot longer.

Perfection.

I hated doing it, but after a minute or so, once we'd caught our breaths and gotten our minds back down to earth, I pulled out and rolled to the side. I figured I'd tie off the condom. Eventually. Once I felt like moving my arms again.

"Y'know," I said, conscious of how close we still were, "it's been quite a while since I've done that."

"I could tell."

"Not all of us jump at the first set of genitals that crosses our path. Anyway, it felt a bit short. I'd probably do better with practice."

"I imagine you might. Definitely room for improvement, but that wasn't half bad." A faint hint of teasing, of playfulness, was audible in her voice. "You must not watch much porn. You'd be surprised how many guys think going hard and fast and straight is a one-way ticket to Orgasm Town."

"And I bet they get off the train long before you do."

"Yeah, usually. Um. You were saying?"

"Oh, right." It took a second to recollect my thoughts. "I don't think that one time'll be convincing enough to fool people who think we've been screwing for as long as we say we have. You're the one who wanted to this properly, after all, and I don't want to disappoint you by letting the truth slip tomorrow."

"You're probably right." Pam leaned halfway over the bed and rummaged around in her suitcase for a moment. "Here."

Something—several somethings, in fact—hit me in the face. "Fucker!"

"That's kind of the idea."

I groped around on the bed until I found one of them; unsurprisingly, my sister had just assaulted me with a fistful of condoms. "So, what, are we using all of these?"

"Until you decide you've had enough, you disgusting little pervert."

"You're the one who bought the condoms, thundercunt."

"Shut up and let's get back to work."

***

"...two months now, Jerry."

"So you've been dating this other man the whole time you've been with Chad?"

"Well, yeah—the guy's a douche! I'm just looking out for myself; right, girls?"

A mix of cheers and boos. The crowd was working itself into a frenzy out there.

My foot wouldn't stop shaking. I was in the green room, waiting for my cue, and I sure as hell wasn't about to back out of this now, not after Pam'd put on the show of a lifetime out there, but I was just so nervous. Must be all the cameras, I told myself. That's all. Just the cameras.

A tech popped his head through the door. "We'll signal you before Chad comes on. Follow me to the stage; you'll be going on right after she makes the big reveal." I nodded, my mouth dry. The tech smiled in a sad sort of way. "Don't worry. It'll come naturally, once you're out there."

"...yes, ma'am, your question for Pam?"

"Hi, Jerry. Pam, I wanted to ask if you cheated on your boyfriend because he was a no-good lying scumbag-"

More cheers.

"-or was it because he was no damn good in bed?"

The loudest reaction yet.

"Well, I knew he was a liar and a bad screw from the start, and I got back with him anyway—so a little of both, but a lot more of the second one."

There were more questions from the audience; most of them fell apart into weak insults. Pathetic, really, that they think they're clever. Pam and I had traded worse than that back before we'd started middle school.

"Well, it sounds like you're ready to tell Chad, so let's bring him out."

"Time to go, Carl."

I jumped. The tech had come back into the room without me noticing. Swallowing hard, I nodded mutely and followed him out through the backstage area. In what felt like only a couple of seconds, we were standing off to the side of the stage, and I could see Chad—who had dressed perfectly for the occasion in a pink polo—struggling gamely against one of the bulky security guards.

"Bitch, I thought—"

"Chad, you thought you were asked here because Pam was cheating on you, and that she was pregnant with someone else's baby, is that right?"

"Fucking right I thought-"

"Well, the first part of that is true."

"Chad, I've been cheating on you."

"But that's not all. Pam?"

I forced my muscles to relax, took a deep breath, and straightened up fully. "Here we go," I whispered to myself.

"I've been cheating on you—with my brother."

I was sure that the crowd was going insane, and I was sure it took some time to walk across that set, but suddenly all I could see was Pam, and I wrapped her up in my arms and mashed my lips against hers, and everything else faded away. The roar of the audience receded to little more than ocean waves against a beach; the harsh studio lights were warm and inviting, nothing but sunrays on a glorious summer afternoon. I was content. And yeah, right now it was almost all based in lust and our stupid revenge plot, and if something more serious ever came of it we'd almost certainly kill each other in the process, but so what? Right now, in that moment, I was happy.

Thanks, Mom, I thought, tasting my sister's breath and feeling her fingers dig into my back.

Thanks for bringing Pam and me together like this.

But I still fucking hate you and hope you die.

*

(I have never seen an episode of the Jerry Springer Show. I've also never slept with a sibling, which means I'm just generally atrocious at doing proper research for these stories. Somehow I think I'll manage to live with myself.)