A Dream Come True Ch. 03

Author's Note: Looks like incest is back on the menu, boys. Thanks for your patience. I'll try not to get too distracted in the future.

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"No shit?" Emma asked Mike, seated on the couch next to him.

"No shit. She's pregnant now," Mike admitted, with a hint of pride in his voice and on his face. He'd fully expected Emma to be jealous or upset over it, but she seemed, at least for the moment, incredulous. "I took a bunch of pictures of it." He took a moment to show her some of the ones he'd taken of Lucrezia using his cell phone, all in generally compromising positions, but most of them with a smile on her face or a look of pure lust. There were plenty of her in a number of different poses, mostly seductive, but a few were tasteful. If not for the lower quality of a cell phone camera, they could've been actual nude model pictures.

Emma leaned back as she watched him slide from picture to picture, sipping at her beer, mulling over the recent revelations of what had happened in her absence. "And at no point during that exchange at the pool did you think maybe you shouldn't fuck the baby-crazy rich model lady? That it might all come back on you in the distant or near future?"

"I, uh.." Mike paused his scrolling. His head tilted a little to one side, curious what she was going for. He couldn't deny that she had a point there, though. Once again, he'd let his small head do the thinking for him. So far it hadn't come back to haunt him, but now she was starting to make him second guess himself.

"And I mean, even if by some miracle her having your child doesn't come back on you, what if she had a disease?"

Luckily, he'd thought a step ahead, and gotten himself tested once everything was said and done, and he was clean. Case in point, he stood up and crossed the small living room to the little stand near his door, plucking an envelope off of it and tossing it at her. "Read 'em and weep."

She cocked an eyebrow as she caught the envelope, checked the contents quietly for a moment, then rolled her eyes. "Okay, so you got lucky there." She tossed away the envelope carelessly, as if doing so would help her seem like he hadn't at least gotten her there. "I admire that you're the sort of guy that goes for what he wants, little brother, but you really need to use the big head more than the little head."

"Did you use your head when you listened to Rachel telling you I had regular dreams about fucking you, came over here, and then actually let me fuck you?" Mike shot back at her, mild annoyance in his voice. "You didn't know if I had any diseases either, and shit, what if your IUD didn't work? I came inside you, what, six, seven times that weekend? You could've gotten pregnant a hundred times over."

Emma narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't you throw this back on me, I can do whatever I want to do, and when I choose to do something, I know it's the right thing to do! I consider every decision I make carefully!"

"So can I!" Mike grumbled at her. "And that's bullshit, Emma, and you know it! Every man you've ever dated has dumped you, cheated on you, or used you." He ticked off a finger for each example he came up with. "Remember that Russian guy that you only knew for three months? The one that proposed to you and you accepted without hesitation? Where was the Emma that sits before me now, the one with a better head on her shoulders, master of her own fuckin' destiny, capable of making all the right decisions and never ever being wrong?"

"Fuck you." She mumbled, barely able to be heard over even the low drone of the TV behind him, looking away from him. Her brows were furrowed in something akin to anger, and she seemed equal parts infuriated and sad. "At least I've had people that care about me." She turned her gaze back to him. "All you do is fuck women and work in that dead end job! How many women actually give a shit about you, Mike? Huh? How many women genuinely love you? Shit, give me the name of even one person!"

That stung. He frowned, not just simply because she was right, but also because he had thought that she loved him, or at least cared about him. His own eyebrows furrowed now, and he struggled to find the words for a few moments. He was genuinely at a loss, not just on what to say, but also on how to feel.

"I thought you did, at the very least. That like, if no-one else in my life gave a shit, at least you did. Guess I was wrong." Mike didn't want to stay there anymore, at least, not while Emma was there. He didn't have anywhere he could immediately think to go, but that didn't stop him from grabbing his keys, throwing on his sandals, and turning to leave. "You can stay as long as you want." Worse than actually leaving Emma behind was the fact that she didn't even try to stop him. He climbed into his vehicle and drove. It was one of those kinds of drives where he felt like he was on auto-pilot while lost in thought, and he wasn't sure how long he'd driven before his thoughts caught up to him.

Mike had remembered that his parents still had their old childhood home that was left largely unused most of the time, a place he had the keys to. It wasn't a spectacularly large home, but it'd at least give him a place to stay for a while. Driving there took longer than he'd hoped it would, but soon, he pulled into the driveway and climbed out of his vehicle. It was exactly as he remembered it growing up: a one-story family home in a generally boring cul de sac, surrounded by similarly designed homes that were all almost indistinguishable from one another, besides the occasional negligible design difference on the outside.

His parent's summer home was painted a sunny kind of yellow, with the weird brown clay tiled rooftop, and the yard was neatly trimmed. No decorations could be found, and that was largely because of the HOA of the neighborhood demanding it, stifling any kind of creativity or originality that might set the homes apart. The only thing that stood out to him was an unfamiliar car he'd parked next to, and the lights on inside. As he approached the front door he dug through the keys on his keyring, mostly work keys. He figured maybe his parents had sold the home and simply not told him. The plan was to test the key in the lock and if it didn't work, he'd take off.

To his relief, the key slid right in and he unlocked the door, stepping inside. For the most part, the place was fully furnished, mostly old furniture his family had accumulated for the home as he was growing up, so anyone could live there if they wanted to. They certainly didn't, preferring more lavish homes with more luxurious amenities, of which they had several. One wasn't spectacularly far away, but was mostly used as a summer home. The other was in Florida not far from the hustle and bustle of Orlando and its theme parks.

"Oh, hey, didn't expect you here, Mike," came the familiar unenthusiastic voice of the woman that he knew as his little sister.

Michael was the middle of three children. Emma was, as you might have guessed, the eldest of the three. Michael came afterward, and Willow, whom he was staring down currently, was the youngest, at the age of 20 herself.

Willow was an interesting contrast to Emma. While Emma was a self-motivated, charismatic go-getter, Willow was apathetic and typically required a firm push to do anything that didn't interest her. Because she was the youngest, she often was the favored one despite this, being given advantages that the two of them hadn't gotten to enjoy. For example, Emma and Mike were both thrown out of the house at the age of 18 to fend for themselves. Willow was 20 and still living at home, with no end in sight.

The funniest part about it all was that Willow was the one that received the best genetics. Emma had a tomboyish attractiveness, and Mike was handsome enough by most conventional standards, but Willow had a fantastic body, with large, full breasts, a cute face, and thick thighs. While not a model by any standards, if she took better care of herself, she would have absolutely had been a model by now and doing well enough for herself, especially with their mother's connections.

Instead, Willow chose to stay put and pursue her hobbies, which was mostly playing and streaming video games. Because of her attractiveness and willingness to take advantage of her fans, she did well enough for herself, showered in cash whenever a need arose. And there was always a need. Certainly well enough to buy the new car in the driveway that he didn't recognize. Surprisingly, at the moment, she was just playing a video game on the enormous television in the living room, seated comfortably in one of those weird race car gaming seats. He didn't understand the appeal, but then again, he'd never sat in one either, so who was he to judge?

"Hey, Lo." Mike closed and locked the door behind him, kicking off his sandals near the door.

"You sound sad. Something happen?" She didn't look away from the screen the entire time, and he could see, as he entered the living room proper, it was some online first person shooter.

"Had a fight with Emma." He stood next to her, watching her play. He had to admit that she was quite talented at what she was doing, her kills to death ratio being the highest on her team by a wide margin.

"You two need to fuck already." She replied nonchalantly, killing another opponent on screen with a shotgun blast that sent their avatar flying into a wall. "I bet you'd have cute kids."

Mike cocked an eyebrow down at her, finding her words amusing. Of course, there's absolutely no way she'd know, so while the thought nagged at the back of his mind, he decided to ignore it in favor of assuming she was clueless. "She's my sister."

"So? I think I read somewhere that incest babies don't have a ton of genetic defects until like two or three generations down the line." The way in which she said that unnerved him a little. It was like she was more detached every time he saw her, which was usually every three or four months these days. In fact, it had been a little over four months since he'd last seen her, so he was probably overdue. Still, he chalked it up to her apathy, at least for now. Or maybe just her being edgy to get a reaction out of him.

"Cute." He tugged her headphones off of her head at the perfect time, ruining her concentration and allowing her opponent to score a kill on her. He hadn't played a video game in ages, but he still had a good enough game sense to know when a good time to interrupt her was.

"Oh, you mother fucker," she whined, slapping at him, taking advantage of the respawn timer to look at her bigger brother. "How long you staying this time? Couple days? A week?"

Mike stepped past her toward the nearby hallway, leading down to the bedrooms. "Couple days tops. I'll be out of your hair before you know it." If she replied, he didn't hear it, but he suspected she just went right back to her game once he was gone. Out of sight, out of mind. He opened the door to his old room and stepped inside.

It was exactly how he'd left it, mostly untouched. His parents never bothered to do anything to it, so the twin sized mattress remained, with a basic blue blanket tucked in neatly on it, and a comfy looking pillow, which seemed the newest thing out of the entire room. His old PC, no doubt unable to really run anything modern (or probably run at all), collected dust on what he considered to now be an ancient wooden desk. Posters lined the walls of old metal groups he was into, and plenty of swimsuit models that he'd spent more than a few hours jerking off to in his youth. His closet was empty of clothes, which was fine, since he couldn't fit in them anymore anyway. They'd long since been donated.

So once he'd settled in, he took the time to make him and Willow a meal - which required ordering a grocery delivery service to bring him ingredients, since the fridge was filled with shit like Hot Pockets and pizza rolls, not at all healthy. Willow arrived as the food was finished, filled a bowl, and disappeared into her room, shutting and locking the door behind him. So much for catching up with the girl. He could hear her talking to her adoring fans in her stream's chatroom, but it was muffled and impossible to really catch anything substantial except the odd word or some new generational mannerism of which he was no longer part or aware of.

So once he'd finished eating and cleaning up, he set the leftovers in the fridge and went back to his room. He shut the door and sat down on his bed, grabbing his old guitar and speaker from the closet, hooking them up, and beginning to play. He was beyond rusty, his fingers needing a little work remembering the chords to songs both new and old, original or otherwise. Somewhere in the middle of his fifth impromptu guitar solo, the door opened and in stepped Willow, looking annoyed at him.

She was wearing a t-shirt a few sizes too small for her, and he assumed that was on purpose to entice the simps watching her stream. Her shorts were similarly small and tight, no doubt for the exact same purpose. He noted she was barefoot, but he rarely saw her wear anything more than crocs, and only when she was out and about, a rare occurrence. Her waist length black hair was disheveled atop her head due to her headset having been taken off a few moments prior. Her annoyance melted away after a moment as she listened to him play.

"Damn. I forgot you used to be super good with a guitar, big bro." She leaned against the doorway, annoyance suddenly melting away, motioning for him to keep playing. "I was getting kinda annoyed that you were making so much noise, but this stuff is kinda nostalgic."

So he kept on playing, using his foot to turn the volume down on his speaker so he could talk to her properly. "Did I distract you from your stream?"

"Eh, fuck it, it was pretty much over. Oh, hold on." She disappeared from his doorway, and reappeared a few minutes later. This time though, she moved to his desk chair and sat down, turning it around to face him. "I come in here now and then and masturbate, smells great in here."

"Real mature, Lo. But that explains the fish smell." He didn't actually smell that, but he was content to tease back in this case. He wanted to give as good as he got.

She grinned at him, cracking her knuckles. "So. You wanna talk to me about Em?"

"Not really. But long story short, I don't think she's happy with me anymore."

"What makes you think that?"

"I got a girl pregnant."

"Oh shit!" Willow laughed, slapping the arm of the desk chair in her amusement. "Did you really? Was she at least hot?"

"Hotter than you," Mike shot back, to which Willow feigned as if she'd been hit in the heart for a moment.

"Okay, well, why does she care who you fucked?" She cocked an eyebrow at him, genuinely curious. "Did you two finally fuck?"

"Lo.." Mike warned her.

Willow rolled her eyes at him. "But no, seriously."

"It's tough to explain, and I'm getting tired. I'll tell you tomorrow."

"Seriously?" She whined. "I turned off my stream just to talk to you, asshole."

"Yeah? My goodness, that must've taken a lot of willpower." Mike mused sarcastically and leaned back to avoid a halfhearted kick from her, reaching out to snag her ankle and pull her toward him, then push her back away from him, an easy motion with the desk chair on wheels. "Hey, Lo?"

She returned her attention to him. "Yeah?"

"If I tell you what happened between Emma and I, you've gotta promise not to tell mom, dad, or anyone else. Do you swear?"

"I swear!" Her eyes went wide, leaning forward to give him her undivided attention.

"Pinky swear?"

She held out a hand, extending the smallest of her fingers. "Pinky swear." He took her pinky in his and they both gave a firm shake up and down simultaneously to seal the deal. He took the time to explain everything that had happened between him and Emma, and she stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief. It was a wonder they didn't get dry, because she rarely seemed to blink. By the time he'd gotten her caught up to the present, the sun had long since set and it was getting closer to 10 PM.

"Jesus, Mike.." She whispered to him. There was an almost deafening silence, broken only by the sound of the wind picking up, and the light rumble of thunder in the distance, before she finally spoke up. ".. did you enjoy it?"

"Enjoy what?"

"Fucking Emma."

Mike rolled his eyes and stood up, walking past her toward the door.

"WHAT?! At least tell me!" She got up quickly and followed after him, her bare feet thudding on the carpet. "Where are you even going?!"

"I'm going to take a shower. I haven't taken one today, I don't really want to go to bed grimy." He shut the door behind him and locked it. He heard her try the handle and then walk away, mumbling something like 'asshole' that he could catch. He took his shower and then headed to bed, climbing into it and relaxing. He browsed his phone to distract himself until he became too tired to keep his eyes open.

He dreamt about Emma again, but this time was different. Previously, his dreams with his bigger sister usually started and unfolded similarly to their priors: her in his doorway, going down on him, fucking him (or letting him fuck her). He hadn't had that dream since the first night he'd taken her, and that was nearly a month and a half ago by this point. This was the first dream he'd had of her since then.

They were sitting at the dinner table in his apartment, talking. Their food had been eaten, and drinks had been savored. He didn't feel drunk, but the look on Emma's face spelled out her inebriation.

"So, you're not angry with me anymore?" Mike asked her, leaning back in his chair.

Emma was quiet for a moment, her eyes on her mostly empty plate. "I just felt a little... betrayed, I guess?"

"Yeah, but it's not like we're exclusively dating or anything, Em. Besides, Lucrezia doesn't mean anything to me, but you do. You know I love you." That was something he hadn't really told Emma before, at least, not in a way that wasn't brotherly. It made him feel even guiltier than before. Maybe he should've said something sooner? Then he realized something: that he'd completely gone against his own personal promise, to be that yardstick that she could measure future men in her life. He'd failed both of them.

"I know." She stood up and gathered their plates, taking them to the sink to set them in. "I guess I just need to make sure that you stay with me and don't stray."

He cocked an eyebrow at her, standing from the table to look at her. He was just about to ask her what she'd meant, but she settled onto her knees, pulling down his boxers to reveal his cock. She looked him dead in the eyes and slowly took his cock into her mouth. He let out a deep groan of pleasure, reaching out to rest his weight on the nearby counter. "Oh, shit, Em.."

She leaned forward to take him all the way into her throat, hands reaching up to grab his legs as she gagged on him for a moment, then slowly pulled away once again. His free hand rested on her head as she sucked him off, but there was something different about this. A part of him was beginning to realize something wasn't quite right. Usually the blowjobs and sex with Emma had a dull kind of pleasure to it, just didn't feel entirely like the real thing, and for that matter, he couldn't recall it being so warm.

Then, he heard a loud crack of thunder that jolted him awake, the rumble afterward admitting the culprit of his newly found wakefulness. The lights were off, and he felt a little chilly, except down at his crotch. Through what little light entered through the door to his room, now open despite him having closed it before going to sleep, he could see a head bobbing quickly up and down on his hard cock.

It took a moment for him to realize in the haze of his sleepiness that it wasn't Emma, though with such low light it'd be easy to make that mistake.