Free Birds in the Bayou

RYAN

"If you're a man in America, and you have a great divorce lawyer, you get the kids every other week. If you have a decent divorce lawyer, you get them on the weekends. If you have a bad divorce lawyer, you get them a week of every month. If you have my divorce lawyer, you get them for one month every year before school starts, and no contact until then. You know, I sympathize with women activists in this country, I really do. It makes no sense that half the population had to claw through hundreds of years of bullshit just to finally be treated like a proper human. But if you ask one of these militant feminists -who, by the way, I usually agree with-, if you ask one of these feminists about how bad a man in America gets fucked by the divorce courts, they don't have an answer for you. You know, if you spend enough time being the victim, I guess it's hard to recognize when you're victimizing someone. Or maybe I was just always a victim. A victim of my own shit decisions and weakness."

Dave withdrew the glass of whisky he was about to serve me. "Would this be one of those shit decisions, Ryan?" He asked me.

"Why do you say that?"

He pointed to the clock behind the bar. "It's nine in the morning."

"It's also a Saturday."

"Every day's been a Saturday since you got laid off, and you've spent every one of them right on that stool." He opened the register for effect, "Is your entire severance package in here?"

"So what if it is?" I snapped. "The kids are eighteen, so no more child support payments. I'm a free man!"

"You sound overjoyed."

I glowered at him. "Just gimme the damn drink, Dave."

"Look Ryan, I've been in this shithole long enough to know when a man's drinking to get the day started. If you want to become an alcoholic, then go full-tilt and start drinking alone in your goddamn whitie-tighties, but I'm not gonna stand here and watch you drown day after day knowing I poured you the first glass." He pulled the glass away, "From now on, you're money's no good here until after noon."

"Ah, piss off. You ain't my goddamn priest." I grumbled, getting off the stool.

"But I am your goddamn friend." He crossed his arms, "You say you never gave a shit about that job at the mill, but you've been nothing but miserable since they canned you."

I looked to my left, making sure that the bar was empty. Then I looked at Dave, and sighed. "It ain't the job, Dave. I never gave a shit about that job, and I still don't. It's..." I twirled my hand, searching for the words, "My girls are grown now, and I've seen them a grand total of a year since they were five. They're headed off to school on the other side of the country, and..." I chewed on my lip, "I had prospects, you know? After the divorce, I could've gotten ten different jobs -real jobs- in Phoenix, but I stayed here, because this is where my girls were. I put my whole life in a goddamn holding pattern for twelve years, and now it's over!"

I yelled the last words to cover up the sob in my throat. They echoed throughout the room, bouncing off the implacable stare of Dave Farmstead. "The holding pattern, or your life?" He asked.

I shrugged. "Somewhere down the line, the holding pattern became my life. I don't know, man; you keep waiting for the future, then you realize it's behind you, it happened, and it wasn't nothing like it was supposed to be."

Dave looked at the glass of whiskey he'd pulled from me. "You're daughters are coming today, ain't they?"

"Yeah." I breathed it out like a confession.

"So you've got one month of future ahead of you." He took the glass, and carefully poured it back into the bottle, "Enjoy it."

KELSEY

Mom and Daniel were arguing in the front seats of the Escalade. They always were these days. It was one of the reasons Josie and I left the more comfortable middle seat empty, and sat in the back instead.

"You might as well pay up now." I sniggered at my twin sister.

"He won't say it." Josie said, listening carefully.

"Oh, he's getting there." I grinned, "It's right on the tip of his tongue."

"He won't say it."

"...while I work my ass off every damn day, and what are you doing, huh? Collecting checks from how many men?" Came Daniel's voice from the driver's seat.

"Oooo, we're so close!" I giggled.

"He won't say it." Josie narrowed her blue eyes, "He doesn't have the balls."

"...and where are you when I call, Daniel?" Mom spat, "On conference again? That's what Shelly says, but of course, Shelly always seems to be out of breath when I call her! Such a rigorous job it must be, being your secretary!"

"Now you listen to me, you vindictive cunt!"

"Bingo!" I cackled, though the exclamation was drowned out by Mom's wrathful shrieks.

Josie groaned. "Do I have to pay you now?"

I undid my safety buckle, and rotated on the leather seat. I eyed Josie with a devious smile as I opened my legs, and rolled up my skirt. Yes, Mother's propensity for vitriolic arguments was one of the reasons why her daughters sat in the very back during long road trips, but it was far from the main reason.

It started ten months ago, only five days after our eighteenth birthday. I'd awoken one night to the sound of Josie shifting noisily on the bunk above me. Curious, I'd climbed the ladder, and peaked over the edge.

"Wha'cha doing?" I whispered.

Josie's blonde head poked out from the covers, her big blue eyes narrowed in irritation. "Flicking the bean, what does it sound like?"

"Underneath the covers?" I queried with a confused smile, "Mom's out drinking again; who are you worried will catch you? Aren't you getting hot in there?"

"Go away, Kelsey!"

"What video are you watching?"

"A James Dean slave video, now go away!"

I smiled crookedly. "That, my dearest sister, was a lie. You know we can't lie to each other, and we never keep secrets, so why don't you tell me what you're really watching, or I'll check the web activity log on the router and find out for myself."

She bit her lip. "You promise you won't make fun of me?"

"I'll only make fun of you a little."

"You promise you won't be mad?"

"Why would I be mad at what you flick it to?" I laughed, climbing onto her bed. I pulled away her covers, revealing a body that was nearly identical to my own. She was slender and long-limbed, her shoulders narrow and delicate, and though her breasts were modest, they were pretty. Years of gymnastics had toned her silken belly with soft shadows of muscle, and had rounded her glutes into alluring domes that ornamented her wide hips. I'd seen her naked thousands of times, and she'd seen me just the same, and not once in all that time had either of us known shame because of it. So when Josie covered her breasts with her forearm and looked away with blushing cheeks, I became concerned.

"Alright, what the hell are you watching that caused all this..." I trailed off when I read the title. Blonde Teen Sisters Fuck While Mom's Away.

I blinked. I blinked again. I looked at Josie, whose eyes were brimming, whose lip was trembling. If she had tried to play if off as just a kink, I would've given her nothing more than a gentle teasing. Shit, I'd watched incest porn simply because it established the barest amount of plot, and sprinkled just the right amount of guilt into the sex to get my motor running. But Josie wasn't just mildly embarrassed; Josie was mortified.

"How long?" I whispered.

"I don't know," she sniffled, "I guess I always... you know, we've been with each other since the beginning, and you know... I thought we'd always be together, and you know, I just... when we started growing up, I always noticed how pretty you were, and... and..." She broke into a cry, curling in on herself, her diaphragm wracked with sobs. "Oh my god Kelsey, I'm so sorry!"

I pulled her into my arms, running my fingers through her hair, comforting her with the gentle rock of my hips. It was a maternal embrace that we'd needed to give to each other, because we'd never gotten it from who we were supposed to. "It's OK, it's OK." I murmured into her ear over and over. Her breathing eased, and the rigid ball she'd contorted herself into relaxed.

"This changes everything between us, doesn't it?" She hissed into my arm.

"Only if we let it." I answered, watching the 'teenagers' (give me a break) slithering together on Josie's iPad. One had the other pinned down by the shoulders, and was kissing her like a lioness feasting upon downed prey, undulating her body with the liquidity of a serpent. I'd often wondered how pornstars could do it; take that leap, become that woman, make the decision to not only do such things, but to do them without shame in front of millions of people. I'd never even kissed a boy up to that point, though it wasn't for lack of suitors. I just couldn't take that leap. I couldn't take any leap without Josie. We were two halves of a whole, and grew together like we were conjoined. But... we'd always known there would be a time when we'd have to separate, right? When one of us took the leap that the other could not, and flew away from the nest once and for good? Does it have to be that way?

"Which one of them is me?" I whispered to Josie.

"The one on top." She sniffled, "You always were the braver one."

I closed my eyes, and let out a slow breath through my nose. "You're going to have to be the braver one tonight, Josie."

She raised her head from my chest, and turned around to look up at me. Her straight platinum hair shown nearly blue in the moonlight, her pale flesh nearly white, and the smattering of freckles across her high cheeks was nearly mauve. Her azure eyes shown like sapphires in the night, staring into me, a question in their depths, a plea, a fear. Her pale lips parted to sound what lay within her eyes, but instead, her little tongue slipped out to moisten them. She moved up me, and I stayed on my elbows, frozen in my fear of the moment, wondering if I should leap off the top bunk, smack my head on the floor, and claim amnesia about this whole ordeal. She straddled me about the waist, and loomed over my face, her hair falling in a silver curtain to isolate us from the world. Just she and I, and her body was pressing against mine, and her hands were drawing unsure fingers up my side, sliding beneath my t-shirt, moving gently up my ribs.

"Kelsey..." She whispered, her brows knitted together, unsure of what she was doing, afraid of what it might mean, but compelled to continue by something she didn't fully understand. I saw all this in that gaze, for I knew her like I knew myself. "I can't do it unless I know you want it." She said, "We have to take this dive together."

I knew then, teetering on the vertex of such a perfect crisis, that this moment would decide everything, but the decision wasn't mine to make. I couldn't want something that I did not, no matter how much I wished it. And I wanted with all my heart to not want this. I wanted to pretend in that moment, that I was who I'd always thought I was, that my nature couldn't be so corrupted by such a heinous perversion, but I was too much like my sister to deny it; to deny the growing ache between my legs, the saturation of desire wetting my thighs, the knowledge that I wasn't just aroused because I loved my sister, but because what we were about to do was so wrong. That a concoction of terrible parenting and sibling codependence had manifested such a darkness within me, and that I had suppressed it for so long that the lie had become truth in my mind, a denial that had become blindness. And now here, with her atop me, with her fingers moving so gently to cup my breasts beneath my shirt, with her lush lips expiring sweet breath into my nostrils, with her eyes staring into me, knowing me so well that words did not need to be spoken, I could not lie anymore.

"I want it." I whispered. She broke into a tearful smile, and lowered her lips to mine. We learned things that night. We learned how to kiss through trial and error, through the painful clicking of teeth, the smiles that broke the contact of our lips, and the slithering motions of our tongue within each other's mouths, tasting the ruination of our innocence as the awkwardness ebbed from us, and the unbridled desire took hold. Then we were devouring each other's mouths, our lips sucking with a gluttony of lust, our tongues dancing in ardent combat, our noses inhaling sharply as our hands found each other's breasts, and our fingers found each other's nipples. Josie was the brave one that night. She was the one who finally broke the kiss, and licked her way down my body. I moaned with my hands covering my mouth, ashamed of the lecherous noises that came unbidden from my chest, each one compelled by the tingle her lips brought when she sucked both my nipples, then traced a path of saliva down to my navel, and past it.

"Josie!" I cried, and though it was a cry of alarm, it wasn't a demand for her to stop. She planted delicate kisses along my waistband, then hooked her fingers beneath it, and pulled my panties down. I whimpered. The heat of her breath was on my netherlips, whispering her desire into my virgin slit. She looked up at me with those blue eyes, now void of indecision, now predatory and wicked. They smiled at me as her curious little tongue dipped into the bottom of my crease, and slipped through me. I gasped. Her wet tongue slid into the ovule of my flower, and the petals bloomed in arousal, outturning and leaking to splay my folds for her, to present my virgin sex so that she could taste it. She inhaled my feminine scent, and her eyes rolled indulgently, the pupils dilating as though my chaste pussy was a narcotic. Her face pressed into me, her nose upending the bottom of my clit, her tongue invading me, searching for my weak spot. Finding it. I cried out. She grinned open mouthed at me, her tongue halfway inside, a portrait of my violation. She curled her tongue upward, and began her work.

"Oh my god!" I cried, wringing my hands in my t-shirt, my hips shifting on their own accord, my belly flexing with pleasured contractions. Josie moaned a laugh into my depths, her eyes alight, her hands pressing against my thighs, compelling them to spread. They did, splaying wide to give her unfettered access to my sex, and she feasted upon it, her tongue relentlessly moving across that spot within me, rubbing, flicking, dancing in pattern until she found the combination that would unlock me. I threw back my head and moaned an escalating tenor, my hands leaving the protection of my shirt to find my twin sister's head, to surrender to this obscene desire, and become who I really was. I pulled her into me, biting my lip as she rose with the elevation of my pelvis, compelled by the arch of my back that jutted my chest forth, sliding my shirt off my breasts to pool about my neck. My nipples ached pleasantly from when she'd sucked them, standing erect and swollen from my alabaster flesh. She withdrew from me with a smack of her lips, leaving me teeming for her touch, mewling like a whore for her tongue.

"Please!" I begged.

"Patience, Kelsey." She grinned, her lips shining with my lust, "I want to know all your little secrets." Her tongue tickled my hood, coercing the pearl therein to swell, aching and pulsating with sensation. She toyed with it, pressing gently and rubbing, gauging my reaction with curious blue eyes. I whimpered for her, nodding my approval, pressing my heels into the bedding. She paused, then drew her finger through me, the notch of her knuckle gently spreading my tight curtains, singing across the nerves of my entrance. She made it to the bottom, then with a devious smile, she traversed my taint, and rested the tip of her finger against my anus. My breath caught. Her smile widened. "You've played with this before, haven't you?"

"Yes!" I moaned.

Her finger pressed harder, threatening to break through my resistance, my pelvic floor bowing inward with tension, getting tighter, and tighter. "Me too," her voice was a covetous breath, "we're really so much alike." I could feel my aperture dilating, the sphincter slowly uncoiling. Her eyes were wild as she stared rapturously at my defilement.

"This is where you really like it, isn't it?" She whispered.

"Yes!" I whimpered.

"Even more than your pussy?"

"Yes!"

"I guess we're a little different after all." Her eyes flashed to mine. "Beg for it!" She hissed, "Tell me you want me to finger-fuck your slutty virgin asshole!" She twisted her finger, and I whined in need. "Tell me you're a depraved little whore who wants her own sister!"

"I love you!" I cried.

Her malevolent smile softened. "You're really terrible at dirty-talk, Sis." She lowered her mouth back to my depths, "And I love you too."

Her finger pushed inside. I groaned in satisfaction, my entire being hinging on the point of her exploratory digit it as it navigated my filth, gently stretching my rim, singing through the smooth bore of my sinful hole. Her mouth came down on me once more, and she found my spot, working it with practiced, confident patterns. Her finger withdrew with a pop, then pushed in again, making me feel the full penetration anew. She kept doing it, opening me and letting me close before forcing through the nerve-swathed center once again, plunging into my heinous depths, ravaging the sensory nodes within that were never meant to know such pleasure!

I undulated in a dance of depravity, my motions becoming more impassioned, my belly flexing and flattening as though I could expel the pleasure that was rising within me. Oh god, I couldn't handle it! She tortured my spot without mercy until I knew the texture of her tongue by memory, and the sensations within were but a blur of chaos, blending together, churning within my depths and rising, rising, rising to the precipice, and I was calling her name with a broken voice, "Josie! Josie! Josie!" My pitch was nearly manic, I was pulling her into me, feeling her consuming muzzle become wet with my release as the pressure within me suddenly ballooned, firing up my spine to burn through the tips of my fingers and toes, flashing through my synapses to make my mind numb. I choked on my orgasm, unable to give voice to anything but a breathless croak, my entire body bowing upward like a drawstring, stretching with the tension that wound, and wound, and wound within me, oh god, oh god, oh Josie! The feeling burst, and I collapsed, panting to catch my breath, quivering with the aftershocks of my climax.

Josie was there, licking what I'd shot out of me, sucking the finger that had just been in my ass, moaning as though it tasted like the finest delicacy. She suddenly didn't seem the dominant lover, but expressed in her eyes, a sweet vulnerability, a request, a hopeful invitation. I grinned at her, and licked my lips.

Ten minutes later, she was panting beneath me, her breasts and belly covered in thin scratches and red handprints, her makeup smeared, her legs splayed wide, both her holes yawning and swollen. I licked my fingers clean, and smirked down at her.

"You were saying something about my dirty-talk?"

"You've got a nasty mouth on you." She smiled, her eyes drunk with satisfaction, "And an even worse temper. That felt vindictive."

"I was just doing what felt natural." I ran my fingers up her belly, "As were you, my submissive sister. I didn't know you could scream like that."

"Neither did I." She crinkled her nose at me, "But don't you start acting like my mistress, not when I had you begging with just my mouth."

"That was just my inexperience." I loomed over her, and grinned, "Now you're my little bitch."

She slapped me hard across the face, and my head whipped to the side, my hair flailing, a yelp shooting from my lips. "Ow, fuck!" I exclaimed, rubbing my cheek.