Finding Sarah Ch. 02

I spat in my bottle, in the A/C of my car, the radio turned down low; there was an even anticipation to see her, to actually be able to talk, to know that she was doing okay. Her happy tears flowed in my mind, only overtaken by her strip. That entrancing, invigorating, burning hot strip. Her hips gyrating over my cock.

I had rung the apartment buzzer, but with no answer or admittance to the building, so I waited in the parking lot, glancing at every face that drove in. She got off at 9. It was only 9:22.

In my mind, her body scrunched: her hips pulled back, her shoulders came up, her knees bent, the muscle and tendon in her forearms shone as she pulled the hole in her hosiery to run and fall apart around her leg, with such utter perfection- her jaw just going slightly slack, her lips becoming a perfect O for just a moment.... She knew exactly what she was doing, and even now, it was obvious in my pants.

This was her. A point a to point b car with faded and scratched hunter green paint. She parked across the lot.

I took the dip out of my mouth; put it in the bottle, scraping my finger on its mouth. I swigged some water and took a mint before getting out and catching up with her, a spring in my step. She looked up at me and ran over, an ear to ear smile on her face as she gave me a bear hug. I laughed a little and swung her around. When she didn't let go I started awkwardly walking to the apartment building. She let go and giggled, sliding down. She looked more like my sister, in sneakers, jeans and black t shirt, and less like the vixen that now dominated my mind. "How are you Sare?"

"Great! Great, how are you? Find this place alright?"

"Yep. How was work?"

She opened the door with her key and let me in. "It was good. I could hardly fucking sit still all day. Went by really fast. God it's good to see you." She turned back and looked me in the eyes, then looked me over. "You look good. If you weren't my brother, I'd do you."

I laughed and the images flashed in my mind. Wonderful images.

"What about you? What did you do today?"

"I worked."

"Where are you working."

"At a wood shop. Fine cabinetry and furniture design."

"Fancy."

"Yeah, the guy you saw me with yesterday is my boss."

"Wow."

"Yeah... I've been apprenticing with him since I was fifteen so, it was his treat."

"Takes you to a strip club. Nice. Sorry, I hope I didn't ruin that for you."

"No, no, it was, well, something."

She gave me a shove as she flipped to her apartment key and let us in. "It's not much, it's been kind of hard to get everything looking like home, but, slowly, I'm acquiring things."

Slowly was right. The apartment was bare... There was some frameless art pinned to the walls, my sister's: pencil and charcoal nudes, landscapes- not the views over open land, but inside forests and groves, campfires. A camp chair covered in a blanket, some books on the floor, a stereo, a small, fabricated desk against the wall, with a mismatched chair. The kitchen was a bit better. It was small, but had a full fridge, bread and such arranged on top, a decent sized sink, gas stove/oven, a microwave. No dishwasher. But she had some fresh fruit on the counter. A tea pot.

She was setting things down in the kitchen pulling things out. "What do you think?"

I held my expression and tongue as I wandered. A small bathroom, a bathtub/shower, toilet, a scuffed up mirror. A bedroom, with a mattress on the floor, but it was made, with white sheets on it and a few pillows, a wool blend blanket. Her closet was open, everything was hung up or on the shelf above. It was clean, and neat, though, I guess it was hard to mess up all that was here.

She had always been neat, trying to control the things she could. "I like it," I called, "very feng shui." I heard her laugh in the kitchen, and I walked back to her.

"Asshole," she said as I walked in.

"Still?"

"Always."

"Honestly though, it's incredibly bare, but well kept, you seem to have the absolute essentials. So, I'm happy." I thought about the furniture I could supply her with, being a furniture maker myself, but kept the thought to myself. I couldn't spare that commitment just now.

"Are you still living at home?"

"No, I moved out last summer."

"Oh?"

"Yeah... Dad thought it was a good idea. Still close to home, but, my own bills, own space."

"How is he?"

I took a breath.

"Be useful, chop vegetables."

I walked up to the counter and started chopping, "He's good. About a year after you left, mom attempted suicide... it was more a cry for help."

"Damn."

"Well, yeah, so, Dad divorced her and about a year ago, he got remarried to an old high school friend, also a divorcee."

"She have any kids?"

"Yeah, a girl. Lilith."

"What's she like?"

"A brat, my age. Well, anyway, they're all good."

"What happened to Mom after Dad divorced her?"

I turned around and looked at her. "Well, she got drunk, went with a drunk guy in his truck, and he wrapped them around a tree. Coroner said she died instantly."

She just sat there... "Oh. Fuck..."

"Yeah. Are you okay?"

She leaned into the counter, rocking herself gently back and forth as she searched her mind. "Yeah... before I ran away... I, uh, I told her I loved her and that I was leaving, so, I can't say that I didn't give a proper goodbye.... But... she's been dead to me a long time... But... Fuck, Nick..." She turned and finished what she was doing and I turned as well. "I'm going to pour myself a drink. Would you like one?"

"No, I've got to drive back later."

"Okay... if you change your mind you can stay the night here. I don't mind."

I thought about that, but, didn't want to put the commitment to it yet. Moments of silence as I let her process everything went by before I let her know that I was done.

"Okay... do you want to make some olive oil for bread?"

"Yeah."

"Bowls up there, oil and garlic and seasonings

are over there." She pointed.

She was decently stocked. Four plates, six bowls, four glasses, two mugs, and handful of silverware, a decent selection of spices.

Food was always really important to us as a family. We almost always ate dinner as together. And we almost always were involved in the cooking process. My mother was from a Jewish Greek family, and her hand in baking was always good. And my father was from a Jewish Russian family, and he was better with the grill and the stove top. When we were young our father had us experiment with flavors in spice soup. My grandmother on his side was a big part of that too, a big part of a lot of things actually. I focused on breakfast, because I was always up before everyone else. Sarah was always more about pasta dishes. Not sure where she got that.

So, in a comfortable, mutual silence, we plated linguini with crumbled sausage, white mushrooms, cherry tomatoes still on their vines, red peppers and garlic, then poured over the white wine and cilantro sauce and dusted with parmesan, brought out plates and a hunk of Italian bread, the garlic dipping oil, and our drinks to the floor, Sarah a cheap white wine and iced tea for myself.

Sarah let out an 'mmmmm' and grinned, "Can I cook or what?"

"What am I? Chopped liver? I helped."

"Chopping fucking vegetables hardly equates to cooking heaven. And chopped liver is pretty well loved in present company." She smiled and put another forkful in her mouth.

"So, where have you been?" I asked slowly, glancing up into her eyes.

"Around. I was hitch hiking for a while. Went all the way up into fucking Canada. Got stuck in Kent for a while. Started dating a guy... he was the manager of a restaurant. It wasn't a great relationship. I was using him, and he knew it. And he was using me, and I knew it. And we used that against each other. Fought all the time, he hit me but I hit him back just as hard if not harder. But, still, I didn't have much else place to go. I was there over a damn year." She ate another bite in silence. "Took the test and got my GED. Then around for a while. I started staying with this girl in Aurora, and it went well for a long fucking while. But I couldn't find work." She took a drink. "Started stripping. Then she thought I was stealing her fucking boyfriend, who was a pussy cuntbag, so, we had a huge fight. It was pretty ugly, she destroyed or threw out all of my fucking stuff, so, I broke her face, and she called the cops. So, I was in a holding cell for a while, and that was, just crazy. Judge put me in for ninety days, then I was around for a while and then I wound up back here, trying to see if any of my old friends would take me in. Stayed with April, remember her? Well I stayed with her for a couple of months then got this place. Been here for six months. What about you? What have you been up to?"

"My life's been a lot quieter. I couldn't stand school, so, I did it online. Apprenticed with Jeremy. Bouts of camping trips by myself, white mountains, blue ridge mountains, out in South Dakota, Colorado. Moved out. Not much really."

"Quiet is good though. You've always been pretty independent, well rounded."

I nodded.

"I mean, this is never where I meant to end up.... I always wanted to be an artist or a chef, living in a nice little town, with kids one day... but, it's not easy.... I mean, I'm not complaining. I've learned a lot. I've grown a lot. It's not where I wanted to be. But. I'm happy."

I thought that over in my mind. The fact that she was happy in a bare apartment, feeding herself with the hunger of desperate men. Images of the groveling and hands reaching out to my sister. I guess that showed on my face.

"Don't take this the wrong way, but, I kind of like stripping." She inspected my face for a reaction. "I mean... I'm pretty safe, Davey and Billy, the bouncers there, they do a good job of protecting us. There are all types of fucking men. Celebratory young kids, creeps, lonelies. Some women too. Girlfriends even. It's, invigorating, to have everyone wrapped around your finger, everyone lusting after you. It pays pretty well. And home depot is steadier. Decent work environment. Nobody knows about Emily the stripper... so, I'm doing fine."

"You don't have to defend yourself to me Sare." I looked in her eyes. "It's not exactly where I hoped you'd be. But, it is what it is. And I'm glad I found you."

She smiled. "Thanks Nick. I'm glad you found me too."

Several moments went by as we ate. Her number let itself in, and played over in my mind. I started looking for her body underneath her t shirt and jeans, undressing her.

"Stop that."

"Sorry."

"It's okay."

I nodded.

"You turned into a pretty hot piece of meat yourself."

I chuckled.

"I'm serious. It's pretty obvious you work with your hands, that you work out. You've got big hands too. Nice strong jawline. You've got Dad's dark features. My friends would be jealous if they knew I was having dinner with such a handsome man.... Especially if you let me dress you up. And shave that fucking beard."

"I like my beard." I pushed my plate out of the way.

"I'm sure you do, but I bet the girls don't."

"They don't like scruff, but I haven't had and complaints about the beard."

"So, there are girls?"

"Well, yeah."

"Details?"

I chuckled. Damn it. "I dated one girl for a while, but ended it when I moved out. Now, there are a few girls that call on me, or that I'll call on when they're between boyfriends. And I'm told I'm rather good with my mouth."

"Uh huh. I'm sure they told you that you were everything." She finished her last bite of food.

"No, not everything... just the only thing."

She cracked up at that and poured herself her third glass of wine. "Well, now I'm intrigued. Alright... well, you saw my strip dance. Let's see yours."

"How about no."

"No no no, you got to see me naked and in the worst possible way. Now it's my turn."

"First of all, not my fault, you just happened to be working the club I was brought to. And two, you've already seen me naked."

"First of all, you didn't walk out when you saw it was me, you stared at me in all me glory, fucking perv." She grinned. "And yes, when we were kids, I saw you naked and helped change your diapers. So, what's the big fucking deal? I just want to see what you've grown into since we were kids. See if you have any rhythm or game. Just helping you out little brother."

"And I'm the perv..." I looked into her eyes as she sipped her wine. "Not happening." But I saw her eyes reading mine. And then she said it.

"How about this... if you can turn me on, I'll give you five minutes with your left hand. You can touch whatever you want."

The offer struck me dumbfounded; it was like she had just blown a hole in a damn somewhere in my head, and the rush of water flowing through it and crumbling the rest of the damn, crashing all around in a storm.... I can touch... I can touch. She'll let me touch.

"Damn you have a good poker face." She grinned. "Well? What's your answer?"

"I'm right handed."

"I know. That's why I said left."

I leaned over her plate, kissed her neck, and quietly spoke in her ear, "I already turn you on," breathing her in and caressing her face with mine was I sat back.

Her eyes in that instant were incredibly lonely and longing, slightly hopeful. Sex was always her drug. Her acceptance. Her way to relate to people. And here I was in front of her, something she remembers trusting, she remembers loving her for who she was and is. Finding home again, wanting to hold on to it in the best way she knew how. I admit, a lot of the reason I was considering this is because she was the most perfect form and the face I now put on such a deep, raw hunger.

But the reason I stood up, stepped out of my shoes and socks and started unbuttoning the three buttons on my Henley, is because I wanted to give her what she wanted. What she needed. She burst into a smile and sprint/crawled to the stereo system. What song did my sister put on? Closer, by Nine Inch Nails.

One of the hottest videos I had ever seen was a girl on the web in a corset and panties dancing to this song. Her hips moving, her body rolling, her hair whipping and her mouth moving. I thought about it a moment.

I slowly started getting into the music then stepped back into the door frame to her bedroom. I took my belt off slowly, looking her in the eyes, while moving my hips. I folded it in two, and snapped it to the beat of the song, before tossing it.

She wolf whistled and giggled. Damn it.

My pants sagged, so I pulled and pushed the hem of my Henley up and down to the rhythm with my hips, then slowly did the same with the waistband of my white boxers, dropping them down, so she got the V pointing down, and the happy trail up into my abs. With the rhythm of the song, I slowly turned around, mouthing the words, exaggerating the F with my lip coming off my teeth. I stuck my ass out and tried edging down the pants, they got stuck without the button undone, so I let them ride back up slowly as I started with the shirt again. I slowly worked it up, let it back down, then worked it back up and slid it off my head and arms. Rolling my body I tossed the threw the shirt at her. I rolled, trying to make a wave like that girl in the video.

Sarah's eyes on me as she smiled, was... unbelievable. It was better for courage than alcohol. Her expression was enjoying the silliness, but, wanton. It made me feel, sexy and powerful. I never thought of guys as capable of being sexy, not even myself.

I undid the button fly of my cargo pants tugged them up and let them fall and tugged them up and let them fall. I reached up and gripped the top of the door frame, brought my feet up off the floor, my legs almost parallel, still moving my hips, letting her see the muscles in my core work. I slowly let my legs drop, and my pants slid down with them, till they were around my ankles, and I kicked them off at her. I dropped down into a crouch, then onto my hands and knees, still moving my hips, sticking my ass up then standing up like gorilla on my fists. I pounded my chest and got a great big laugh out of her, then kicked up my legs into a hand stand. I moved my shoulders to the music, and raised and lowered myself alternating arms, and I knew she could see the muscles in my back, and my ass that I was clenching tight to keep this position. I did a few pushups then lowered myself, and rolled onto my back, lifting and moving my hips to the music as I slowly inched my boxers down.

She was rubbing herself seemingly subconsciously, and that put me from a healthy chub to a steel rod in little time. I showed her some neck, then took it away, then some neck, before taking it all off, getting on my hands and knees, and pressing my forehead against hers as I faked an attempt to savagely bite her lips- while the song ended. I stayed there for a moment, as she breathed out and smiled huge.

I looked down and spoke quietly, "I think I turned you on."

"Just a little."

"So I get my five minutes?"

"If you have to, perv." She spoke slowly, softly, her big smile turning to a grin.

"Will you undress before we start the clock?"

She pulled her t shirt over her head, and threw it in my face, then her black lace bra. She laid down on the floor and pushed her jeans off, her legs coming up to meet her. Then the same with her black boy shorts. She propped up on her elbows and looked at me. I set the alarm on my watch, showed her, and pressed start. I caressed her face, cupped her cheek in my hand, stroked locks of hair behind her ears, for a decent chunk of my time. I moved my hand down, caressing her neck, then wrapping my hand around it and feeling her quick pulse. I traced her chest with my fingertips, then took her breast in my hand, massaging and leaving the nipple with a pinch, then the other. My fingertips ran down her bicep, down her forearm, met her hip, then danced over her stomach, dipped in her navel, over her illium and through her trimmed, cherry auburn pubic hair to her thigh where I gave a tight, claiming squeeze, ran down to her calf, firmly squeezed her instep, then slowly ran back up the inside of her legs, pushing the leg opposite me up and away, I went under it, grabbed her ass firmly and slid her an inch, toward me, sliding my hand out and down the underside of her leg then back up the inside of her thigh to her pink lips. I traced them, circled and lightly pressed her clitoris, slipped one finger inside, sliding it against the roof of her pussy till I found the rough flesh of her G spot, circling it, then slowly working my finger deeper, then adding another, spreading them apart, curling them. I buried my two fingers to the hilt, then pushed further, sliding my fingers up, and I found the node, the bundle of nerves near her cervix, her A spot. As I let my fingertips circle it the timer buzzed, So I pulled my fingers out, and sucked on them, tasting her sweet sweet musk. I pulled my fingers out of my mouth and slowly brought them to her lips, and pushed them inside her willing mouth. She sucked on them. My two fingers hooked around her jaw and pulled her to me. As I took my fingers out of her mouth she kissed me. Deeply, slowly, passionately. It ended and she said against my lips, "What the fuck did you hit back there?"

"Your A Spot?"

"My what spot?"

"It's like a G spot, just, under more flesh, and close to the cervix..."

"Very well little brother...." She kissed me again, pushing me back, as she took my cock into her hand. Her wonderful wonderful hand. "Do you think you could find it with your dick? It's certainly long enough... and so thick... maybe it's true what they say about hands. Huh? Little brother?"

I grabbed her by the nape of the neck and by her thigh, pressing her mouth to mine and pulling her to climb on top of me. I dipped a few fingers into her sweet pussy and wet my cock with them. She lined us up, caressing my cock with her lips, and slowly took me in. She slowly moved up and down, rolling her hips as she did it. She pushed me down, and held her weight just above me, letting her tits dance in front of my face as she moved. I took the left one into my mouth as I pulled her to me. As I tightened down with my teeth on her nipple she cried out.