Everybody Wants a Soldier

"Thanks for being so patient with me. I feel so much better not that I have shared this with somebody," she said.

With a quick kiss on his cheek and an affectionate pat on his thigh, he left him there to collect his thoughts. That proved to be a Herculean task. However hard he tried, there was no way to air out the X-rated loops on constant repeat on his inner silver screen. It was Melissa, over and over again. Fucked, slammed, licked, ground into mattresses, pinned against walls, fed cocks in every hole, sucking, bucking, riding and moaning in the hands of a countless mass of men. In his head there were even several of them at once, pumping away into her beautiful, sexy body. The only way to stop the insanity was to get rid of that bloody hard-on, so he dashed up into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. He barely got his cock out of his pants before he shot a string of white across the tiles of the bathroom wall.

They didn't talk any more about that afternoon of confession, but one or two impish glances exchanged between the two whenever a conversation with friends or family touched on the subject of her former boyfriends reaffirmed that it was something that would never be forgotten. Other than that things were delightfully normal, and they both reveled in this their last real summer holiday as if they were still kids. It was just an illusion though, and they knew it. Real life, with all its obligations would soon catch up with them.

III. A NEW DESTINATION

Real life did catch up with them tree weeks later. It arrived in the shape of a white envelope and disguised as good news. Two years in the service of Uncle Sam had opened a few doors for Denny. Their family had never been more than just above poor, so any higher education ambitions the two had was on community college level. But with the army college fund to add to their savings, Denny had decided to get a solid entrepreneurial education and applied to several different schools. What had arrived was an admission letter from one of the better ones. It wasn't Ivy League exactly, but the school had a good reputation. Everyone was of course happy for him, Melissa no less than the others, but the event also marked the end of that dream-like month. A month she secretly wished could last forever.

"Washington?" had been her first reaction to the news, "Seattle? Damn, that's just about as far away from us that you can get without falling into the ocean."

"I know," Denny said, "I'm gonna miss this place. You, mom, dad, everything. But I really need to do this. It's a great opportunity."

"Yeah, of course you should go. But I'll miss you. I finally get my favorite buddy back, and then he runs off again after just one summer. It's going to be so dull here without you. It really sucks that you got in on a reserve place. Now we'll only have, what, a week before you have to go?"

Denny managed to look truly regretful, "Actually, it's less than that. Term starts in two weeks, but I'll have to fix housing and lots of paper work, since my application was so late."

Melissa's heart sank, and she sighed, "Ok, when are you leaving?"

"Tomorrow morning. Can't afford to fly there, so I need two extra driving days just to make sure I'm not late for registration."

"Shit."

"My thoughts exactly."

Melissa couldn't help it, the hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach was rapidly returning. There'd be a Denny shaped hole in her life again, one that would suck up all the fun and comfort in her life. One that however hard she tried, with work or friends or pointless sex, was impossible to fill up. The tears welled up in her eyes and started to roll down her cheeks before she even noticed it. Then came the ache in her chest, a short, miserable whimper, and she threw herself sobbing into the surprised arms of Denny, who could do nothing but stand there and awkwardly stroke her hair while she bawled into his chest.

A good cry can sometimes clear out a lot of things, and as her sobbing subsided, so did that immediate panic attack. This was life after all, and life was not supposed to be fair. Denny deserved this chance, and she was just being a spoiled little kid thinking that she had any right to have him for herself. At least that's what she told herself. Out of the self-pity gutter, young woman, and show some spine.

"Sorry," she murmured.

"It's ok, sis," Denny said, "I hate this too. This has been the best summer in my life, hands down. It sucks that it has to be over. It sucks hairy balls."

"Just like me, you mean?"

There was no turning back from that line. All the tension broke though into a burst of laughter. It wasn't long before they were both writhing in a heap on the ground.

"Oh god, I need a drink," Melissa wheezed, trying to catch her breath.

"I'll tell you what, Mel. Today, it's only you and me, ok? Let me just pack my bags, and then we'll hit the town and bar-hop until we fall over. If this is the last night we have let's go out in style."

"I like the sound of that."

As the afternoon and evening went on, drinks went down and moods went up. They stumbled yapping and laughing from place to place, playing pool, dancing, even making asses of themselves singing karaoke at one place. The night was rolling into darkness, and they found themselves walking, comfortably tipsy, out of a club when the midnight hour kicked in. It had been a wonderful night of carefree enjoyment, but the high tempo was beginning to take its toll. They sat down on the edge of the sidewalk and rested their feet for a while. The streets were pretty silent, but others like them, mostly young lovers and groups of boys and girls on the way to or from some oasis of the night, passed by. Their laughter and banter a perfect sonic match to the pumping of beats and base from the club the Denny and Melissa had just left.

"You left a sad cluster of broken hearts back there," Denny laughed.

"What?"

"Oh come on. Don't tell me you didn't see the guys whose eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when you were dancing. You are so sexy you even got my hormones boiling in there, and I've seen you in diapers for Christ's sake."

"Hah. I didn't give the first damn about those wankers, you know that. I'm with you."

"I'm with you," the words hung like a thick mist between them, and nothing more was said for several minutes. They just sat there and silently enjoyed the company of each other, no words, not even any exchanged glances. There was no need for that. They knew exactly where they had each other, so they just sat there and let the cool night air fill their lungs and caress their overheated bodies. Melissa leaned over and rested her head on Denny's shoulder, and he placed a protective arm around her. She absently grabbed the hand hanging down from over her shoulder, and in that classic loving embrace they spent another half hour, in a cocoon of blissful silence and comfort of each other's presence.

Time stood still, until Denny shifted a little and cleared his throat.

"So, what now? Where do we go?"

"Do we have to go anywhere? Can't we just sit here for the next couple of years and not give a fuck about the rest of the world?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"All right," Denny said and reached into a pocket on his jacket, "I'm gonna have a smoke. Want some?"

"What? I didn't know you smoked."

"Not every day. And not cigarettes."

"Is that—is that a joint? Denny!"

"What? Come on, I don't know what propaganda you've heard, but it's just a little weed. It's as harmless as anything. Come on, try some with me. If you don't like it, then you'll know."

"No—I'm just surprised. I remember that I couldn't even get you to drink beer before you became a uniform boy. I guess they taught you more than to shoot a gun and march in a straight line there, huh?"

Denny laughed. "You could say that."

He lit up the badly rolled thing and took a first suck at it, before handing it over to his sister. Melissa had never smoked anything before, and her first attempt ended in a serious coughing fit. But she was not going to let that stop her. If it was cool with Denny it was cool with her. Period. So after a couple more attempts, she had gotten the hang of it, and they passed the slowly decreasing butt between them in silence. It felt—cozy, she decided. Whatever was in that white roll made the stone pavement they sat on feel softer, the shoulder strap of her bra stopped annoying her, and the warm, tender embrace of her brother's chest and arm felt more right than ever. The last remaining traces of worrying about the harsh reality of the day after faded away, and all that was in the universe was that little bubble that contained her and the man she had come to define her existence by.

"So—" she said in a mocking tone, "I turned you on back there on the dance floor, did I?"

"Oh shut up," Denny chuckled.

"Oh no, perv brother. I'm not going to give you the luxury of denial. Fess up. You wanted me."

"Well—ok, you win. There were moments. Seconds now and then in there when the booze and music and flashing lights made me forget just who you were. At those moments, I found myself thinking that I wanted to drag you off into the nearest alley and screw you against a back door or something."

"Rowr, nasty."

"Happy now, you twisted little pixie?"

"Actually yes," Melissa purred, "Now I know that I'm pretty."

"The fact that every man in town is drooling at the sight of you is not proof enough?"

"I couldn't care less about the opinion of any other man in this town than yours."

"Ok, you're now officially drunk," Denny decided, "You don't really mean that."

"Mmm—maybe I don't. But if I can make my own bro think of me as hot, that packs some weight, wouldn't you say? Besides, I'm not really that drunk. Draw me a straight line and I'll walk it."

"I'm too drunk to draw straight lines."

"Touché."

After the very last of the joint had turned into that calming smoke, they decided that it was time to call it a night. Denny's apartment was just a few blocks away and there was no way for Melissa to get home this late except with a taxi that was way out of their budget, so the decision was easy. They'd crash at his place and he'd drop her off at home tomorrow before leaving for Seattle. They walked, leaned together like lovers, leaving a chain of bad puns and soft giggles in their trail.

IV. A KISS IS JUST A KISS

Finally at Denny's two-room shack, all the different chemicals, ingested, inhaled and produced internally had simmered to a perfect mix to tilt the young woman's judgment completely out of play. There's never just one thing to point at and say that oh yes, that's what caused her to act like she did. The hormone and stimuli cocktail in her veins, the growing feeling of time running out ticking in her subconscious, and just plain old habit all joined forces as Denny guided her into his hallway and locked the door behind them. Before Melissa could even think, she had flung herself at him, pressed her lips against his and pushed her tongue deep into his mouth.

It took her several seconds to realize just what and who she was doing, and it took Denny even longer to react at all. So she tore herself away just as he pushed her off, which resulted in a stumble, a fall and Melissa desperately grabbing hold of whatever she could to not fall flat on her ass. What she found was a coat rack, which meant she fell just as ungracefully to the floor, and dragged the whole thing down over her. It hit her soundly in the head and turned her into a whimpering pile of hair, trench coat, tanned legs and a whole lot of cursing.

"Mel, are you alright?"

"Ow—yeah," she said as she collected herself and pushed the coat rack out of the way, "My head hurts."

Denny knelt down beside her where she sat.

"Let me see. No bleeding at least. Nothing else?"

"No, no I'm fine."

Their eyes met, and were suddenly as locked there as if their gazes had been fused into position. The stumble, the fall, the coat rack and the mess there were suddenly all forgotten, and just one thing clung in both of their minds. The kiss.

"What the hell happened here?" Denny said.

"It was just a reflex," Melissa breathed, "It's how nights like this usually end for me. I forgot you were you. Just like you said you did in the club, remember? Let's just rewind and pretend that didn't happen, ok?"

"Ok. Come on," he said while helping Melissa to her feet, "I'll tidy up here, if you get some coffee going in the kitchen."

"Coffee? You don't want to sleep?"

"And miss some hours when I could hang with you? No way. I just wanted to get off the streets."

"You are such a darling. And I don't want to sleep either. Tell you what, I'll make coffee that could wake up trilobites, and you amuse me with dazzling army anecdotes. You must have thousands of those, right?"

"I think I can come up with a few good ones."

Melissa let up a happy sigh and gave him a short hug before heading off into the kitchen.

"And I still want to know about all the girls you must have banged!" She yelled from the kitchen, "Everybody wants a soldier."

Denny groaned a little to himself. He kind of wished it wouldn't come Melissa coaxing him to spilling his beans on sexual escapades the way that she had, but now he was cornered. She wouldn't let him avoid the question for long. Oh well, it wasn't as if there was nothing to tell. A pack of uniformed alpha males on their Saturday night prowl was almost guaranteed to get themselves all the pussy they could ever wish for. He had stories enough for her all right.

He never got around to tell her about that though.

The first steaming mugs of strong, black Java went down with much lighter conversation about everything under the sun except sex. And then, the fireworks went off. It was so easy to unleash all that pent up desire and frustration that they both harbored that afterwards, none of them could remember exactly what had caused them to lose their self control that second time.

It had been so trivial. They both got up from the couch at the same time to grab a coffee refill in the kitchen. As Denny's hand accidentally brushed by Melissa's thigh, time slowed down to a trickle. In slow motion they saw themselves rise up further. Denny's hand, with a life of it's own, never left that tender patch of skin, and soon his lips and nose trailed her long hair up to her face. Melissa's hand had landed on his shoulder, and now meekly rested on his chest as their faces met. The tip of her nose drew a soft line of caress from his earlobe over his cheekbone and up to his nose. Her eyes were closed, but her sense of touch and smell had never been so focused in her entire life. Without a sound, or other motion than giving into the gravity between them, their faces sunk closer and their lips merged in an endlessly soft and tender kiss.

When they leaned back again, she buried her green gaze in his. Their conversation needed no words, but they whispered them almost soundlessly anyway.

"I wish I could say I'm sorry," Melissa began, "But I'm not. I wish I could claim that I forgot it was you again. But I didn't."

"Me neither."

"Stop me now, or this will happen. It shouldn't, I know it shouldn't happen, but I can't help myself. Denny, this is your last chance. Stop me."

"I—can't." Denny said, "I don't even want to."

From there on and through the night, they broke every rule, every hushed down taboo, eradicated any and all excuses for their behavior. Fully aware and knowing exactly what they were doing, they crossed that line and plunged head over heels into full blown, no holds barred acts of shameless incest. They tumbled down into the sofa and kissed as if their lives depended on it, tasting each other's tongues while hands caressed legs, asses and backs, breasts were pressed up against chest and crotches ground against thighs. Melissa's skirt had traveled up to her waist, and Denny cupped her lovely ass in both his hands. Just thinking the thought, 'That's my brother's hands on my butt,' gave Melissa weird and wonderful tingles up her spine.

Now that the cat was out of the bag, she longed for nothing more than to fully consummate this unholy union, to sink as deep into the taboo as she possibly could. Nothing else would be enough.

"Take me, Danny. Fuck me, right now."

He didn't need to be told twice, he unlocked from their embrace and promptly yanked her panties down to her knees. While he unbuckled his belt and got rid of his pants, she kicked the panties off her legs and pulled her top over her head. Denny looked down at her where she lay in nothing but a white laced bra and a black skirt up around her waist.

"God, you're beautiful," he said and pulled off his T-shirt.

All he wore now were a pair of boxers with a rock hard erection bulging underneath. He pulled those down, and his cock sprung out in full view. Melissa's eyes went from there, to his eyes and back again. Then she nodded and spread her legs wide, sinking her head back into the pillows, as if telling him that she served her body to him, that it was his to use with that beautiful tool in any way he wanted to.

He sank down on his knees and leaned over her. She could feel the tip of his cock brush against the inside of her thigh, and she just wanted to scream at him to get on with it. But Denny couldn't quite shake the image of a little girl in braids out of her mind. For some strange reason, he suddenly saw her as this fragile, innocent little being, when he knew that the truth was far from that. When his fingers traced the outside of her slit, she felt a first surge of intense excitement and pushed her hips up against his hand. A finger slipped inside into the warm hole, and feeling how wet she was, he had no more worries. He pushed two fingers all the way into her pussy and could feel and hear her immediate reaction.

"Oh yes," she panted and took a grip around his waist.

Denny pulled out the fingers and still looking straight into his sisters eyes, he put the sticky fingers into his mouth and sucked them clean. It was just another in a long line of totally taboo revelations that Melissa's senses kept telling her, some locked away rational part that could just helplessly look on as things progressed.

'Melissa, your brother is tasting your—stuff, practically eating you out.'

'Melissa that is your own pussy you're tasting on your brother's, your god damn brother's tongue that you're kissing. And that is—oh my god, Denny is pushing his—thing—into—you—'

And then the last corner of protest died away. As Denny's shaft sunk into her, sliding against the tight, slippery walls of her pussy, even the most shy and prudent part of her gave up and let the sensations guide the way into a night of forbidden lust and insane intensity that just would not stop. The first time there on the sofa was just that, an opening act, a fast, hard fuck to climax away all embarrassment and doubt. They rutted in panic and in unison, desperate to reach that high note, so that Denny could pump his semen inside of her. The ultimate debauchery, a rock bottom that would gave them the freedom to go on, to not care about a fucking thing and just get lost in each other's sex all night.

Finally he came. With a loud moan, he buried his shaft inside of her and tensed up, his lips bore down on her neck and the first erupting spurt of cum, all the amazing implications of that finished act, sent Melissa over the same edge. Denny sunk down over her and limbs locked tightly around each other they allowed themselves to cool down for a minute. Denny lifted his head and looked down into his sister's eyes. A sudden pang of guilt came and went away as quickly, when she returned his worried gaze with a lovely little smile and warm, loving eyes. That was all it took for him to regain his erection, and another wordless rutting followed the first one.