My Two Wives

I walked over and stood in front of her with my hand out. "Give me the remote."

Her eyes narrowed. "No."

"It's my house!" I said incredulously.

"Yes, and I totally appreciate you letting me live here," she replied sweetly. "But I refuse to bow to a policy of censorship. Seems the Right is all about freedom of speech until someone uses it to say something about them. I'm trying to protect you from your own hypocrisy."

I felt a burst of annoyance that only a little sister can induce. "Give it to me, or I'll take it."

A competitive gleam entered her eye and she held the remote up between us. "Bring. It. On."

I grabbed her wrist and tried to wrench the remote free, but I should have seen what was coming. She went for my leg and executed a single leg takedown.

I suppose at this point I should mention that all three of us -- my brother, sister, and I -- had been pretty athletic in school, and both Naomi and I were on the wrestling team for years. This was no ordinary brother/sister sloppy wrestling match.

She tried to pin me, scissoring her long legs out and dropping all her weight onto my upper body, but I threw myself into an arch. I drove myself up with my left foot and rolled into her, catching her arm and trying to flip her onto her back. She went to ground to avoid being flipped, locking her arms tight against her upper body. Jon Stewart brayed in the background, but I barely noticed as I focused on the time-honored tradition of kicking my little sister's ass. I was a twenty-seven year old tax attorney, but somehow I never quite got rid of the part of me that felt that every challenge offered by a sibling, particularly the younger one, must be answered. I would punish her audacity.

I tried working a hand under her arm from the back but she kept her arms locked to her sides. Lightning- quick, I spun to gain a different angle and wedged a hand under her elbow from the front. I wrenched it up into chicken wing position -- which is very uncomfortable for the person whose arm is being held up behind their back -- and straddled her hips, plonking myself down on her ass to keep her pinned.

"Give up?" I asked silkily.

She responded with an angry grunt. She was trying to draw her feet up enough to push herself up and me off.

I was sitting in total control though with one arm chicken-winged and my weight resting on what was more or less the centre of her body. She wasn't going anywhere, but typical Naomi, she refused to give up. Then she made an even bigger mistake: she put her other hand out to try to push up. I immediately had her other arm chicken-winged too. She growled and bucked her hips, trying to bend her knees enough to plant the balls of her feet.

I was basking in my triumph when I had a sudden, horrific realization: I was hard. Her ass was rubbing against my balls as she twisted and wiggled, and my cock had responded as if this were just some girl with a nice ass rubbing it. She was still struggling though, as I had this horrible epiphany, and as if totally disconnected from my brain, my hips tilted and thrust so that I gave her ass a little hump.

I released her arms and jumped up, backing away in shocked horror.

She rolled over, and her face was completely flushed, her dark brown hair all over the place. She looked like she'd just been fucked.

"Noah?" she said quizzically.

"I..." I trailed off, words completely failing me. I continued backing away, and I could feel the horror written plainly across my face. Had she noticed?

I saw her eyes flick down to my fly.

I ran out of the room.

***

'Have to leave your room sometime,' I thought bracingly to myself. 'Can't hide in here forever.'

I still hadn't decided on a gameplan. I had no idea whether I was going to sit Naomi down and give her the speech I'd been rehearsing in my head all night about my enforced celibacy of late, or if I was just going to act as if nothing had happened and proceed as usual.

Becky was ready for work and staring at me impatiently.

"You're going to be late, hon."

I held up the two suits I'd been debating between. "Which one?"

Her eyebrows scrunched. "You need my opinion on a suit?"

Hearing it out loud made me realize how stupid it was. I was no metrosexual -- every morning, I simply chose one of the suits hanging in the closet, and paired it with a reasonably non-clashing shirt and tie. I was stalling.

"You're right. Grey it is."

She eyed the time restlessly while I dressed. "Noah, it's getting late. I've really gotta get going if I don't wanna hit the morning rush."

I knew I should rush so I could make sure she ate a proper breakfast, but the bedroom door stood there like some monolith, facing me down.

"Why don't you go ahead," I suggested. "Just make sure you have something to eat."

"Okay, just make sure you're not late yourself."She bussed me hastily on the lips, and then was gone, leaving me to my inner turmoil. I dragged out the process of dressing, trying to decide on a course of action. I could hear the low murmurs of Becky and Naomi talking downstairs.

A decision eluded me. I heard the door slam, indicating that Becky was gone.

I decided to bite the bullet and just go downstairs, hoping that I'd know how to approach Naomi once I saw her. I stood awkwardly in the doorway to the kitchen, watching her eat a bagel and sip her morning coffee.

It wasn't that I'd never known she was good-looking; I'd always had an aesthetic appreciation of her looks. Her wavy hair was dark brown and had hung to her mid-back for as long as I could remember. She was tall for a girl, and lanky with just enough curve to her to give her a feminine shape. She had a line from the Torah tattooed at the base of her nape, which I supposed some guys might find sexy if they weren't aware that it was a scriptural quote. Her long legs were encased in tights and stretched in front of her, and she hunched over a newspaper, doing the Sudoku. She looked like she always did, and yet completely different.

"Hey," I said awkwardly.

"Hey yourself," she replied without looking up from her Sudoku.

So, we were going to ignore it. I could definitely live with that.

I poured myself a cup of coffee and made a bagel. She'd already finished eating by the time my bagel finished toasting and made her way to the dishwasher with her bowl and glass.

She stopped and turned. "Noah, I'm going to be bending over to put my dishes away. I hope you can control your baser urges, but if you can't, maybe you should avert your eyes."

My face felt like it had been engulfed in flame. She burst out laughing.

Weirdly, that laughter helped me feel less humiliated.

"You asshole," I muttered.

She grinned. "So I guess wrestling's off our list of activities since you're a pervert now and all."

"I'm not a pervert!" I could feel my color rising again.

"So, I'm just irresistible then? I knew it."

I snorted. "Hate to burst your delusional bubble, but the only reason I...that happened was because Becky and I haven't had sex in a month."

"A month?" she said derisively. "Is that supposed to be a long time?"

"It is when you -- fuck, nevermind."

She perked up, sensing interesting information. "Tell me! 'It is when you' what?"

"We shouldn't be having this conversation."

She rolled her eyes. "You are such a tight ass now."

"Yeah, not wanting to talk about sex with my sister -- wow, I'm such a weirdo!"

"No, you just assault your sister with your boner."

I gaped at her. "I'm adopted. I must be. No normal person like me could be related to someone who thinks that's funny."

Naomi strolled around the breakfast bar and hopped up on the stool next to me, swivelling it to face me. "Tell me why you got a hard-on and I'll leave you alone."

I stared at her doubtfully.

"Probably," she amended.

I gave up. "Fine," I snapped. "A month has been a long time because I haven't been able to jerk off."

She blinked at me owlishly.

"Becky gets sick when we try to have sex, so I can't exactly start jerking off while she's in the bathroom yakking. And there's never enough hot water to jerk off in the damn shower in the morning, because I live with two women. And I have Zach in the afternoon until Becky gets home."

Her eyebrows had disappeared under her bangs. "So, you haven't cum in a month?"

I knew I must be the shade of a tomato. "Once."

"Once in a month..." she bit the inside of her cheek. "Well, that makes sense. Although I really did like the explanation where it was just that I was so hot."

She flounced off, leaving me staring after her.

***

The rest of the week passed relatively normally, although Naomi just couldn't resist a couple of opportunities to harass me. Like when we were putting away groceries and she held up the bag of deep purple plums and asked, "Now, what do these remind you of?"

Then finally it was Saturday, and that night Becky and I were going to the party of a couple we'd gone to university with.

Becky's sense of style was understated, but it always did it for me. Tonight she was wearing a semi-conservative little black dress which showed just a bit of thigh and revealed a hint of the upper swell of her breasts, which were nice and swollen from her pregnancy hormones. She had on black stilettos that were just shy of slutty. She looked like a high-class hooker, and I wanted to bang the hell out of her.

"Could you do up my necklace, please?" she asked, holding up the ends of the delicate silver chain.

"Sure." My voice came out a little husky.

My fingers brushed her neck as I fastened the clasp on her necklace. I could see our reflection in the dresser mirror, and all I could think of was bending her forward and pushing inside her. My hands dropped to her hips, and I brushed kisses along the curve between her neck and her shoulder.

"You look so good," I murmured, my fingers tightening on her hips.

Her hand came up to cradle my head to her neck. "You look good, too."

"You smell good, too." I inhaled the warm scent of her blonde hair, which she'd pulled up from her nape, allowing just a few curls to trail down. I tugged the skirt of her dress up above her hips, revealing black bikini-cut panties.

"Noah," she said, my name coming out like a moan.

"Hmmm?" I nuzzled her neck as my finger burrowed between her legs.

She spun in my arms. "We really have to go."

I couldn't help the disappointed groan that escaped me.

"But," she said, slipping her hand between us and trailing it down along my stomach, "I'd really like to continue this when we get home."

I grinned. "I'll hold you to that."

We said goodbye to Naomi on our way out, who also had plans tonight, but for later. Since Naomi was going out and planning to spend the night at her friend's place, Becky and I had made arrangements to drop Zach with our neighbor for the night. We kissed him goodbye and left him in the capable hands of Mrs. Radinsky, a sixty year old Ukrainian woman who had enough grandkids to start her own soccer team.

The party was fun for me for all of half an hour. I wanted to go home and have sex. Becky, on the other hand, had an endless stream of girlfriends she had to catch up with. Some of whom I specifically remember that she hated when we actually went to school with them. Apparently talking with them now was more important than having sex with me, though.

I was frustrated, but I knew there was no point in rushing her. I sat down with our host, Sheldon, and started drinking. More of our old crowd came along and soon we were drinking like we had back in the day, discussing sports, women, and politics in increasingly drunken and obnoxious tones.

At a quarter past two in the morning, Becky ended up being the one to drag me home. She was driving -- for obvious reasons -- while I was alternating between entertaining her with my singing and trying to feel her up. Becky, to her credit, endured this with patience and even amusement.

We got home to a dark house, and Becky hauled me upstairs. She unbuttoned my shirt, and that was all the encouragement I needed. I grabbed her and kissed her, mauling her with my hands. My cock went from soft to rock hard in an instant, I was that ready to pick up where we'd left off earlier. Suddenly I noticed that she wasn't returning my kiss. She was also shoving against my chest. I released her, and she bolted for the bathroom.

I could hear her puking through the open door. "You-" -- heave -- "reek like-" -- heave! -- "whiskey!" HEAVE!

"Sorry," I mumbled drunkenly. "I'll go sleep on the couch."

Her only response was violent retching.

I grabbed a blanket and pillow from the hall closet and went down to the couch to set up my bed for the night. Part of me hoped that she'd come downstairs in a few minutes, stomach empty, and tell me that she was feeling great now and ready for sex. Half an hour later, I climbed the stairs to our room and knocked softly. I opened the door to find her lying there, sound asleep under the covers.

I needed to jerk off, I decided, so I grabbed a porn and some lube from my stash and went back downstairs. I popped it into to the machine and settled on the couch. I muted the sound; the images were enough. Hell, at this point, I really didn't even need the porn at all, I was so horny. The porn was two girls on one guy; nothing too exotic, but good enough. I was lubed up and stroking hard, just about to cum when the front door opened. Reflexes honed from years of covert jerks as a teenager resurfaced, and I pulled the blanket over myself lightning-quick.

Unfortunately, I couldn't find the damn remote.

"Hello?" Naomi called softly.

I was still searching for the remote, wanting to shut off the movie before I responded. But the flickering light from the TV screen drew her to the den, and I looked up to find her in the doorway.

"Well, well...I see it's movie night."

I finally found the remote and hit "Stop". The screen went blue.

"Put it back on. I wanna see." She walked toward me, swaying heavily from side to side, and I realized she was tanked.

"Go to bed, Naomi."

She grabbed for the remote and I held it away. She reached again, flopping onto me and giggling drunkenly.

"You always thought you were so smart, hiding your porn. But guess what?" she said in singsong voice, leaning toward me. "I knew you weren't watching marine life documentaries," she whispered conspiratorially.

"Congratulations, Sherlock Holmes. Go away." I was still drunk, and getting testy. I wanted to cum. Was that so much to ask for? In my own damn house, no less.

Her eyes lit with inebriated realization. "Were you jerking off?"

She whipped the blanket off before I could even imagine that the thought would enter her head. My cock lay there against my belly, still hard, glistening with lubricant in the blue light from the TV screen.

I yanked my boxers up, but the ridge of my cock tented them obscenely. I reached for the blanket, but she held it away tauntingly.

"You can have this back if you put the movie back on."

"You're drunk, Naomi," I said through gritted teeth.

"Yup. And horny."

"Well, go be horny somewhere else."

"I tried. I thought I was getting laid tonight, but turns out he was interested in Liz. So, now Liz is getting laid, and I don't even get to watch some porn," she said sadly.

I'd seen her drunk, but I'd absolutely never seen her like this.

"I'm not drunk enough to be having this conversation," I muttered.

"I'll grab you another drink," she said perkily. I started to call after her that I didn't want another drink, but I changed my mind. If I couldn't jerk off, maybe I could drink myself into oblivion.

She returned with two glasses of Crown Royale. Not shot glasses or tumblers -- full size water glasses filled with liquor.

I stared blankly for a moment before accepting my drink. "Uh, thanks."

She sat on the other end of the couch and took a healthy swig of her drink, downing an eighth of the glass.

"Your liver's gonna be fried in another year if you keep drinking like that."

"Okay, DAD," she said with a grin.

I glowered and chugged a bit of my drink in response.

"So, how was the party?" she asked.

"Fine," I replied. "We stayed a bit longer than I expected, so I ended up having a few too many with the guys." Having said this, I took another slug of my drink.

Naomi matched me with a gulp of her drink. "Was Nancy pissed?"

"Nah, she doesn't really get mad about stuff like that. Thinks it's just boys being boys. But she sure didn't care for the smell when I tried to kiss her after we got home."

"No sex again?" Naomi asked sympathetically.

"Would I be down here watching porn otherwise?" I asked peevishly. I took another couple of gulps of amber liquid in quick succession. A warmth was starting to spread through my chest, signalling that my buzz was returning back to its optimal level.

"Hmmm," she murmured, sipping her own drink. Without warning, she snatched the remote from my side and pressed 'Play'.

"For fuck's sake, Naomi..."

"Go to bed if you don't wanna watch."

I considered it briefly, but I would need to shower and brush my teeth in order to lie down next to Becky without making her puke again, and I just didn't have the energy.

The TV screen filled with the image of two blondes pleasuring a well-hung guy. They licked along his cock, took turns massaging his balls, and every so often met at the spongy end of his cock and kissed. My cock, which had been losing its fullness, quickly hardened again.

I decided I would placate Naomi until she took her drunk self to bed, and then I could jerk off.

"Turn on the sound," Naomi said.

"No, Becky's sleeping."

"So, turn it on low. Porn without sound sucks."

It may have been the half a glass of Crown Royale, but that rang true to me. A little volume wouldn't hurt. I turned the volume on low, and the soft sounds of cock-sucking filled the room. Female moans soon followed, and the camera panned out to reveal that one girl was fingering the other.

My hand automatically reached for my cock before I remembered my sister's presence. I shot a glance at her, and suddenly my tongue felt too thick for my mouth.

Naomi was fingering herself. Her short skirt was rucked up around her hips, and the outline of her fingers was visible through her panties. Those fingers were moving frantically.

I didn't know if I should say something. She was obviously hammered. I should just go back to watching the porn and pretend nothing was happening.

In the end, I did neither; I just kept staring at her. Finally, she noticed my gaze.

"I'm so horny," she said softly.

"No kidding," I said hoarsely.

"You can jerk off if you want, Noah."

I stared at her in shock, gaze flitting between her face and the outline of her fingers in her panties, which hadn't stopped moving.

My inebriated mind tried to examine the options as logically as it could. One, I could jerk off, with my sister in the room; I wasn't drunk enough to not know that would be extremely wrong. Two, I could get up and leave, go back upstairs to my wife. Who I made physically ill...Three, I could go to the bathroom and jerk off in the shower then go to bed.

In the end, I took a long swallow of my drink, and did nothing. I returned my stare to the TV screen, but I was one-hundred percent focused on what was happening at the other end of the couch. Every so often, she'd make a small noise -- a whimper or a moan -- and my cock would throb painfully.

I thought about getting myself off. A quick image flitted through my mind of me leaning over and replacing her fingers with my tongue, but I forced that from my mind. 'I should go,' I kept repeating to myself silently, but I remained paralyzed, locked in the pretense that nothing insanely wrong was going on.