Homelands Pt. 04 Ch. 02

But still. It would've been wrong not to look away.

Besides, the little tents her stiff nipples made in the thin fabric, which he hadn't noticed, weren't remotely appealing. Nope. Not at all.

They'd kept the window open too long, trying to air out the weed stank. And it was an uncharacteristically cool evening for late spring in southern California. That's all it was.

Surely his sister wasn't aroused. That would just be weird.

Yes, weird. Nothing else.

"Does it hurt?" he asked.

"Not really," Olivia said, taking a few steps towards him.

He wasn't getting lost in her crystal blue eyes. Just pointedly avoiding looking at her chest. And if his heart was racing, it was only because he was nervous about his imminent piercing. Not because his sister's face was the most beautiful thing he'd ever laid eyes on, or because having her so close to him made unseemly thoughts race through his head.

Kurt tried to remind himself of all the reasons that Olivia was the last person on Earth he'd want to sleep with. Nevermind that he shouldn't have needed any help convincing himself of that. That the mere thought of it should have been so repulsive as to do all the hard work of killing his erection by itself.

How often had she stuck gum in his hair? Kicked sand in his face? Made an idiot out of him in front of her friends? Or, worse, his? How annoying was it that she seemed to take so much pleasure in making him feel like a child? To say nothing of how good she was at it.

Only their mother could infantilize him so thoroughly, and so effortlessly. And at least she didn't do it on purpose. Most of the time.

"Hold still," Olivia said.

He did as she instructed.

Her one hand went to a shoulder he wished was broader. Meatier. But that was stupid. What did his sister care what kind of shoulders he had? Would she have even noticed?

She probably noticed that Eric's were like cannonballs.

No. No. That was just a horny teenager's fucked up delusions.

Liv's other hand held the piercing, delicately squeezed between two fingers. She pressed it against his nipple, gently, and then took her hand away.

"All done," she announced. "That wasn't so bad, was it? You big baby."

Kurt looked down and found that his nipple was pierced.

How high was he?

He hadn't felt anything. Not even a pinch. He suddenly realized that he was faintly aware of the cool, hard feel of the metal. But that was it. One moment, it had been between her fingers. The next, it had skewered his nipple. Ta-da.

"How's it feel?" she asked.

"I don't know. Weird. But if I wasn't trying to figure out what it felt like, I think I'd forget about it."

"Yup. I often do," she said.

"So what's the point?" Kurt asked.

Olivia shrugged. "Gotta give guys some reason to notice my little girls," she said. "God knows they don't really command much attention on their own."

Kurt covered his forehead.

As if, what, he was trying not to see the words she'd spoken?

It was just instinctual, though. He didn't want to look at her when she was talking like that. Or, rather, he very, very much did. But he didn't like that he did. It was all kinds of wrong.

"Anyway, my turn," she said. "Truth."

He breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't want his sister to think he was being tame. He'd have to come up with a good one if she said "dare." But all of the things that were coming to mind were... he couldn't go with any of them.

Of course, he couldn't resist the urge to push the envelope a little.

"How many guys have you slept with?"

"Pshaw." She waved the question away as she sat back down on the bed. "You don't really want to know that, do you?" She paused a moment, but when he didn't say anything, she continued. "I mean, I don't mind telling you. In fact, it's kinda cute the way your ears and cheeks go deep red whenever I talk about my sex life. But you've got the opportunity to embarrass me. Why not ask me something that I don't want to tell you instead?"

Kurt shrugged. "Well, it would probably be harder for you to confess your GPA, but where's the fun in asking you about that?"

"Hey, watch it mister," she said. "D's get degrees. Course, if I had double-D's, I could get A's. If you know what I mean. Works for some of my friends anyway." She grabbed her nipples again and shook her breasts. "Sadly, these are the only A's I'll ever have."

This time, Kurt didn't bother looking away. He just frowned and pretend not to approve.

"Right," he said. "I'm sure that's exactly the problem. You're not hot enough to tempt your professors in trading grades for sex. Can't be that you don't care enough about your grades to let some fat, bald, old guy have his way with you."

"Pretty sure it's not, no," she said, with a laugh. "You know, sometimes fucking an old, ugly guy is just about the only way I can get off. It makes me feel so dirty." She shrugged. "Guess it's just that I don't give a fuck."

Kurt's heart raced. He was both repulsed and aroused at the same him. His sister liked to fuck old, ugly guys just for the rush of doing something so depraved?

What lines wouldn't she cross?

"Anyway, I don't know the exact answer to your question," his sister said.

He scowled. "No way you're going to dodge that softball."

"Holy mixed metaphors, Batman."

"Whatever. Give me a ballpark estimate."

"Okay, okay, but only because one more sports cliche would kill me."

Kurt pulled a rubberband out of the top draw and shot it at her.

She giggled as she balled herself up defensively. It bounced off her forearm and zipped across the room. "Jerk," she said. "I only let certain guys shoot it in my eye."

He heard himself gasp.

His sister smirked at that before she finally answered his question. "Sixty or so."

Kurt's jaw went slack.

"There were nights where I was too fucked up to know how many guys were in the room. So that's give or take. But somewhere around there."

He almost collapsed in shock. She didn't know how many guys were in the room.

Fuck.

He knew she was uninhibited, but holy shit.

And, the kicker? She liked the reaction she was getting.

Precum leaked out of the tip of his cock. Which should have been the red flag that told him it was time to put this game to an end. It was one thing to be thinking impure thoughts, and to jerk off while picturing his sister. Or his mother. Or both. Those were private indiscretions. Between him and the shower drain. Or his socks. But now he was oozing precum while hanging out with his sister. If she hadn't noticed his raging hardon, she might well notice the little dark spot in his sweatpants.

But, of course, he did not put things to an end. It would have been impossible for him to say the words. The need to see where this would go was overwhelming.

"Your turn," Olivia said.

Kurt gathered his thoughts. If he went with dare again, who knew what she'd come up with. He'd obviously have to, sooner or later. Perhaps precisely for that reason. But just at the moment, he wasn't ready for that.

"Truth."

"Have you ever thought about fucking Mom?"

Her words came out so quickly, they had him reeling.

It took a moment to realize she'd asked about their mother. Not her.

Not that it made much difference. What the hell was wrong with him that he'd been somewhat prepared for one of those questions? Either one should have taken him completely by surprise. Should have struck him as insulting too. Not titillating.

This was all getting seriously out of control.

In a really, really good way.

"Of course," he said, casually. "You took Intro Psych. You know all guys do, whether they realize it or not. Who am I to argue with science?"

"Pfft. Whatever. Like Freud's work was scientific. Even I know that much. But that's not the point. I'm not talking about dreaming of trains or any of that shit. I mean have you ever fantasized about her. For real."

He hesitated before saying, "No."

"Bullshit."

Kurt forced a laugh. "Look, if you're not going to believe me, there's not much point-"

"If you'd said it with a straight face, I'd have believed you."

"So, what, my nose was crooked for just a moment there? Is that the problem?"

His sister reached back, grabbed his pillow, and tossed it at him.

In a lot of ways, their mother looked like Olivia. In other ways, they were quite different. Mom was tall, for a woman. Only a few inches shorter than Kurt, and he was a good bit above average height himself. Liv, on the other hand, was just barely over five foot. Their mother also had a classic statuesque figure. Not quite voluptuous. That word implied a softer, rounder, form. But she definitely had some curves. And not just the muscles in her lower body, or the ass that filled out her pants so nicely and looked even better in a dress.

His sister wasn't exactly as flat as an ironing board, however many times she'd said precisely that herself. But it wasn't terribly far from the truth. For a while, her nickname had been Mosquito Bites. Until her acne went away and guys realized that she was pretty enough that it didn't matter what kind of chest she did or didn't have.

Yet both of them had the most gorgeous blonde hair, stunning blue eyes, and delicate facial features. Olivia was painfully gorgeous, to be perfectly honest. He didn't see anything wrong with saying his sister was beautiful, or that she looked like a model, but he'd long resisted admitting to himself that it was worse than that. It actually caused him anguish to be around her and not be able to touch her. And Kurt had no doubt that their mother had been every bit as pretty when she was younger. In fact, she was still prettier than most women he knew, and she was well into her forties.

"Maybe a few times," he admitted.

Olivia stared at him silently for a moment.

Kurt's stomach churned. Was she going to burst out laughing? Call him a pervert? Sneer in disgust? Threaten to tell his friends?

After another awkward moment or two, though, his sister simply nodded.

"You don't think that's weird?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I'd think it was weird if you didn't. Mom's got it going on."

He started to ask if she'd ever felt that way about their father, but he figured he might as well save that for the next time she chose "truth."

"It's not like an obsession or anything," he rushed to add.

And it wasn't. He'd gone through a few periods where he fantasized about her pretty frequently, followed by long stretches where the thought never entered his mind. Sometimes he wasn't even sure that the Kurt who fantasized about fucking his mother and the Kurt who didn't were the same person.

But that was a whole different story. After all, that wasn't the only reason he sometimes wondered how strong his hold on reality was. Ever since puberty, he'd done things, sensed things, that shouldn't have been possible. And he could swear that the body he saw in the mirror some days was a whole lot more impressive than the one he saw other times. Even accounting for the natural tendency to see yourself differently when you're in a good mood relative to a bad one, that was a bit odd.

His sister offered a lazy grin. "No need to explain. Really."

He never thought he'd admit these feelings to anyone. Let alone his sister.

And he definitely never thought that if, for some reason, he did confess to Olivia that he'd sometimes fantasized about their mother, that her reaction would be so nonchalant.

"I won't tell anyone," she added. "Except maybe Mom."

"Liv!"

She laughed. "Oh, man, you should have seen the look on your face just now. Priceless."

He forced himself to smile. "Anyway, it's your turn."

That guilty smile of hers, which would have been just as fitting if he was the one in the hot seat, made his dick hurt. It wanted to get harder, but had already reached its limit.

######################## Scene 4

Setting: Nick's apartment in Los Angeles. The same night. POV: Nick #########################

"Political science," Veronica said.

"Well, any field that needs to put 'science' in the name isn't much of a science."

Nick glowered at his roommate. Who did not take the hint.

Or any of the hints he'd dropped over the past few hours.

Glenn just gave Veronica a smug smile. The kind that said he knew he'd lobbed a bomb, rather than actually made anything remotely close to a compelling argument, and was waiting eagerly for the return fire.

"I completely agree," Veronica said. "Life science, materials science, computer science... such post-modern wankery!"

Both Nick and Glenn burst out laughing at the same time.

Turning to Nick, Glenn said, "Your sister's pretty cool."

"She's okay," Nick said.

Which got an ice cube thrown at him.

"Anyway, you sure you don't want to go to the club with me?" he turned back to Veronica. "I'm sure they make better margaritas there than we do here."

Veronica sipped her drink, noisily, by way of reply.

"Okay, okay," Glenn said. "Have fun here." He clapped Nick on the back. "Fair warning. There's liable to be some noise coming from my room later tonight. Don't mean to offend your sister, but, well, you know how it is."

"Nick, you didn't tell me your roommate was out. That's great, Glenn!"

"Ha freaking ha."

"Wait, you mean girls actually talk to you Caltch trolls? Or are you planning to call an escort service? Cuz if so, that's cool. There's no shame in that."

"Goodbye," Glenn said.

Veronica was still snickering after the door closed.

"Sorry about that," Nick said.

"Don't be," Veronica said. "That was fun."

Nick frowned. But if any of the shit Glenn had said had upset his sister, she was doing a good job of hiding it. Her Libido showed nothing but excitement.

In fact, she slipped off her stool and closed the distance between them almost immediately. Between kisses, she panted, "I need you inside me. Like, now."

The door opened again.

With a squeak, Veronica slipped away.

"Forget your phone again?" Nick said.

"No," Glenn said, as he walked back in.

Nick stared from his roommate to Veronica, who was blushing and trying very hard to look inconspicuous. And failing miserably.

Thank god for social norms causing people to think certain acts unthinkable. If Veronica hadn't been his sister, her act would have been so transparent that Glenn would have guessed what he'd interrupted right away.

"She sent me a text earlier. Was too busy talking to notice. Her friend just got dumped. She's headed over there. For the night."

"She?" Veronica looked at Glenn. "You have a girlfriend?"

"Not exactly," Nick said.

"Just been trying to get with her for a while," Glenn added with a sigh.

"Ah," Veronica said.

"Hey! She's not lying."

"No, no. Of course not," Veronica said, holding her hands up in protest.

"Hailey's relationship has been on the... you know what? Fuck you. That's all I've got to say. And get me a beer."

Nick was about to tell his roommate off when Veronica laughed and tossed an ice cube at Glenn. "Get your own beer," she said, giggling.

Only then did it hit him. They didn't hate each other. They were flirting.

######################## Scene 5

Setting: Wes and Zoey's home in Los Angeles. A little after Scene 3. POV: Kurt #########################

"Dare," Olivia said. "And make it a good one."

Kurt snorted. Like he'd planned on being as boring as possible.

"Okay," he said, heart racing. He wasn't sure he'd be able to get the words out without stumbling over them. But somehow he managed to sound smooth as he said, "I dare you to masterbate in front of me."

Olivia raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were trying to make things interesting."

"Oh, we are," she said. "Game on, you little fucker."

For a moment, Kurt considered taking the dare back. He'd really crossed a line. What would she make him do next, now that he'd gone there?

But as his sister slipped off the bed and hooked her thumbs inside the waistband of her pajama pants, he realized that there was no way he was going to put a stop to this.

Whatever the consequences might be.

"You're not even gonna look away?" she asked.

He blushed.

"That's fine. Let me put on a show for you, long as I'm at it. Sicko."

Despite her words, he knew she was enjoying the attention. It was plain on her face.

And there was a reason she hadn't hesitated for even a moment before starting to undress.

Kurt did his best to feign disinterest as his sister did a little striptease for him, ever so slowly peeling off her cotton pants. But it wasn't easy.

She didn't have as much meat on her as he typically preferred, but he she had nicer legs than he'd given her credit for before. Much shapelier than he thought he remembered. And her ass also took him by surprise. Maybe there were two different Olivias, the way he sometimes thought there were two different Kurts. Or maybe he was just really getting into the moment. After all, any woman who knew how to move the right way could hold a guy enchanted as she stripped. And he sister definitely did know how to move.

Fuck, she really knew how to work her hips. And she was an absolute expert tease.

When she reached back and gave her bare ass a playful smack, Kurt jolted upright, nearly falling out of his chair. And when she bent over and touched her toes, keeping her legs as straight as possible as she did, he let out a soft whimper.

Once she'd slipped free of the pajama pants, she hadn't been covered up much anyway. Just a skimpy little g-string. But though Kurt didn't recall seeing her take it off, he suddenly noticed that his sister was naked from the waist down.

He could see her glistening, bald lips.

She stood up, turned around, slowly, and then arched her back. Her pelvis crept forward, giving him a good look at her naked sex.

A little heart had been tattooed on either side of her mons. She wasn't, in fact, shaved bald, as he'd first thought. Her dirty blonde hair was trimmed into a landing strip. He'd been pleased to see that she was bald, when he'd thought that was actually the case. But he decided he liked this look better.

Damn, but was beautiful.

Then it hit him. Really hit him.

He was staring at his sister's pussy.

It might be a beautiful pussy. Her labia might be puffy and prominent, the way he liked. She might be visibly aroused herself. Lips flushed red and glistening, and clitoris popping out from under its hood.

But it was still his sister.

In the flesh.

Not some harmless little dirty fantasy, that got his blood pumping precisely because of how wrong it was. That filled him with guilt enough, and that was purely inside his head. But this? This was actually happening.

And it was as wrong as wrong got.

Except of course it wasn't. There was a basic instinct against it, yes. It was, if only because everyone told you to think so, disgusting. His airway suddenly felt constricted, his head light, and his stomach queasy. But none of that stopped the voice in the back of his head from protesting that there was no good reason for why most people acted as if incest was on the same moral footing as cannibalism.

Who did it hurt if he got a bit excited staring at Olivia's beautiful womanhood? Without invoking slippery slope arguments, the kind that would make his AP English teacher's green pen go crazy, what could you really say was so bad about it?

"Ready to puke yet?" she asked.

His sister was short of breath herself. And though her words were clearly meant to sound taunting, they came out closer to tempting. Seductive, even. If she'd said, "Ready to fuck me yet?" instead, she might have used the exact same inflection.

"I'm fine. Question is how you're holding up."