Mouse Bk. 05 Ch. 01

Melanie had watched in a drunken stupor as her brother and sister fucked like newlyweds. Mouse and Melanie had made alcoholic love to each other. The three siblings had damn near had a threesome when Melanie had watched Mouse artfully, sensuously suck and fuck their brother a second time.

Mouse still didn't know how Melanie had resisted the desire to join them then. It was what Mouse had expected, and wanted, and intended to happen. Melanie had at least had the audacity to steal a taste of one drop of their brother's (of Mouse's!) precious cum, making a show to Mouse and Michael both of tasting it before she exited the room.

Afterward, Mouse thoroughly expected Mel to simply ignore her little sister as much as she could. They simply wouldn't talk, while Mel would work on Michael, while Mouse was away, to get him to date other women and abandon his sinful little sister. Melanie knew she couldn't have Michael herself.

So Mouse was sure that Melanie would try to "steal" Michael from her the only way she could, by simply getting another woman to do it for her. Then neither of them could have him.

Admittedly, Melanie didn't really want their brother, not like Mouse. But there was something there, something deeply buried and smoldering and threatening. She didn't know what Mouse knew, she didn't even know it herself, that it was more than just a fun, passing, whimsical fantasy. Mel didn't know how much she lusted after their brother.

Or, if she did, she'd never, ever admit it to herself, or give in to it. So Melanie would turn that around. Instead of wanting to have him, she would want Mouse to not have him.

This was another reason for Mouse's seeming willingness to let Michael date. It was a big reason. Mouse would let him do it, even encourage him herself, and so he wouldn't. Let Mel push, and Michael would resist, because it would be his big sister telling him what he should do, and his little sister telling him he could do whatever he wanted, so his choice would be to disobey Melanie. He would honor his unbearable love for his sweet, fun, sexy, little sister while disobeying his intruding, overbearing, manipulative, mothering older sister.

Or so Mouse had thought.

But Melanie hadn't reacted the way Mouse had expected, at all. Suddenly, Melanie was the big sister Mouse had never really had. Suddenly, they were friends. Mel called all the time, at all hours. She called just to talk. She called to check on Mouse. Hell, she called to ask for advice. Mel actually asked Mouse for advice.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Little."

Mel had taken to calling Mouse "Little," abbreviating "Little Sister." Mouse sort of liked it. Melanie had always thought the nickname "Mouse" to be childish, and said so to anyone and everyone. She thought it was something that the family should have abandoned long ago. And yet she'd come up with this new nickname, one that reaffirmed their bond and their relationship.

"Hi. What's up?"

Mouse always resisted the obvious counterweight of calling Mel "Big." Melanie was close to six feet tall, with an athletic frame that sensitive people termed "big boned." It was a sore point with Mel, a nagging failing that stung her from her youngest years. Calling her "Big" would be pouring salt into a long open wound.

Mouse leaned back onto her bed, relaxing, staring sightlessly into the darkness. That by itself was a big change. Talking to Mel had almost always set her on edge, throughout her entire life. Mouse always had to be on her guard with Mel. She was always afraid of being judged, always poised to counterattack if Mel ever voiced what she was thinking, which was almost always something that Mouse was or could be doing wrong, in her eyes. The thought of relaxing during a conversation with Mel would never even have occurred to Mouse a few months ago.

But not anymore. Now they were sisters, real sisters. Now they were friends. Now they talked.

"Michael misses you."

"Of course he does."

"No, I mean he's pining. It's sort of cute, in his special mopey, forlorn way. But I hate seeing him sad. That surprise visit should come soon."

"I should never have told you," Mouse scolded.

"I won't wreck it. I won't tell him. But he needs it. It would be good for him."

"What have you been up to? How are things working out with Dan? And... your throat exercises?"

Mouse and Melanie talked about sex a lot. It was their favorite subject. Mouse needed no pretense or small talk these days before turning the conversation that way.

"It's good, good. Okay. He still doesn't kiss like..."

Melanie broke the sentence off awkwardly.

She can't make herself say it, Mouse thought, but they'd discussed this once before, after Mel had had a bit to drink. Actually, Mel seemed to have a bit to drink pretty often these days.

Mel had really liked the way Mouse kissed. She'd always liked kissing. She'd now discovered that she liked kissing women even more. Men were good in bed, but not necessarily for kissing.

And that one, wild afternoon, she had loved kissing her little sister. She couldn't let it go.

"Your little sister?" Mouse finished for her.

Melanie paused. They'd talked about it once, yes, but it wasn't easy for Mel to discuss sober, especially when Mouse emphasized that they were sisters, which she now did for the sheer thrill, and to annoy Mel.

For Mel, part of it was the way Mouse herself kissed. Part of it was Mouse's size and build and sexy if slightly exotic, dark, girl next door looks, which all appealed to something deep down in Melanie. Somehow, Mouse was "her type."

But Mouse knew that a big part of it was the forbidden. They were sisters. It was incest. That made it incomparably exciting.

"Yes, but that's never happening again, so please stop bringing it up."

Melanie's voice was annoyed, but with the barest hint of whimsy.

It was true. Mouse did bring it up often. At first she did it to get a rise out of Melanie. Now she did it because she realized that Melanie secretly liked it when Mouse brought it up, no matter how much she protested. Sober, Melanie couldn't say it, but she liked to hear it. She would whine and complain and tell Mouse to stop, but she liked it.

And anyway, this time it was actually Mel that had brought it up, even if she'd tried to disguise the fact.

Mouse obligingly went back to her original line of questioning.

"So your sex life is getting better? Rekindling the flame? Loosening up the throat?"

There was another long silence. Mouse sensed something different tonight.

Normally, Mel loved talking to Mouse about sex. That was what had really happened, the real difference these days. Mel was fourteen years older than Mouse. Hell, Mel was already away at college before Mouse had started kindergarten. Until recently they simply never had much in common. They were always at very different points in their lives, especially in their sex lives.

But after all they'd done recently, the two sisters had finally found some common ground.

Mouse had never had any idea how much Mel enjoyed sex. She had never guessed at how wild Mel's darker side was.

"I'm actually starting to lose control," Mel admitted.

"Meaning?"

"I'm thinking about sex constantly. I'm fantasizing constantly. I'm fucking Dan constantly. I think he's afraid I'm trying to kill him."

"Death by fucking?"

"Death by sucking."

"Oh, yeah, of course."

Another pause.

Mel was holding something back. Actually, that went without saying. Mel was always, always holding something back. It kept her in control, or at least gave her that illusion. Mouse knew that Mel had her secrets, she always did, and no matter how close they might get, she always would. She still wasn't completely sharing.

"So what's up? Sounds like you're hunting for advice."

Long pause again. This was making Mouse more than nervous. Something was up. But Mel had been asking for advice on sex for a while, now, and Mouse loved playing that role. It was probably harmless. Probably.

"I want to arrange a threesome."

Mel hadn't even finished the sentence when Mouse snapped her reply.

"I am not sharing a bed with you and your husband!"

"No, stupid, not you. Christ, Dan would totally freak. Jesus."

Mel sounded truly disgusted. Mouse actually felt a bit offended at that.

"Michael, then? No way. No fucking way."

"No, stupid. Good God. You think I'd fuck my brother in front of my husband? Ewww. And not you and Michael. I don't even want to fuck Michael alone. Ewww."

Now there was only a short, embarrassed pause.

"I'm sorry, Mouse, I didn't mean that. Michael's good for you. I get that. It's not that gross. For you. But it is for me."

Good, Mouse thought, then scolded herself.

She wasn't worried about competition from Mel. If anything, she sort of wanted Mel to sleep with Michael, in a back handed kind of way. Not really, but maybe. Perhaps.

It was all so weird.

"So who?"

"Dan and I and someone. You tell me."

"Dan wants a threesome? Man or woman? Shit, woman, of course. What kind of women does he like?"

"No, I want a threesome. With another woman. I almost did it once in college, and... I just want to actually do it. I can't get the thought out of my mind."

"So you want to know how to broach the subject with Dan?"

"No, that'll be easy. I need help finding another woman to join us. I just don't know how to even begin. How do I find someone that might do it? How do I know if they would do it? How do I even bring the subject up?"

"Oh."

"I was hoping you could make it easy. That you had a friend that was... as open as you are."

"You think I'm such a slut, I just have all of these deviant, sex crazed friends."

"Yes."

"Bitch."

"Slut."

"Ice queen."

"Stop dodging the question. Do you know anyone?"

"No one back home, not any more. Who do you know? You must know somebody wild."

"No one. Not a soul. If I did I wouldn't be asking."

"There must be someone..."

"I live in the suburbs. I'm a mother of college kids. My friends are all mothers of college kids. We're all done with sexual escapades. At least, they are."

"You're the only sex freak in that sleepy little town? I doubt it."

"I'm not a freak."

Mouse held her tongue.

"Even if you find someone, you're sure Dan will go along with it?" Mouse asked after the pause.

"He'll do as he's told," Melanie laughed back. "Although a younger woman would make it easier. And I'd like a younger woman, myself. Not too young. Well, maybe. Thirties. Twenties. An innocent college girl could be fun."

Melanie paused a moment. Mouse didn't interrupt.

"But I'll take what I can get."

"Anything else? Eye color? Hair color? Favorite position?"

"Sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away. You know me. And sex."

"Yeah," Mouse laughed. "Freak. Okay, let me think about it. If I don't know anyone, or someone who knows someone, maybe I can figure out how you and Dan could pick someone up."

"Ewww. I don't want... diseases."

Mouse rolled her eyes.

"Let me think. I can't now, I'm too tired. I'm going to bed."

"Okay, sorry for calling so late. Call me back if you think of something."

"Okay. ‘Night."

"Good night, Little."

Mouse smiled into the darkness, twisting the wedding band around on her finger. Mel had gotten so interesting lately.

* * *

The last mouthful of the martini reached her lips even before Melanie had set the phone down. She smiled, too. Her smile wasn't conceited, or controlling, or wicked. It was happy, and silly, and contented.

She felt a little guilty about hiding her thoughts about Michael from Mouse. She told herself it was no big deal. They were just thoughts, just fantasies. It was nothing Mouse needed to know about. It was better for everyone if she didn't.

Melanie actually missed Little. Talking to her made her feel good, about herself and about life.

Lately, a lot of things were making Melanie feel good. Melanie set the empty glass down, then reached for the bottle to mix herself a third drink.

* * *

Melanie reached across the table to comfortingly touch Michael's hand. It was large and strong, but warm and surprisingly soft. No matter how large and strong the boy had grown, he was always her soft, little brother. The long hairs on his knuckles tickled her fingers, reminding her that he was a man, too.

He glanced down at her hand on his with an air of detached inspection.

Michael looked back up into her face, his own eyes focused and serious. She loved the masculine aura he projected when he turned overly serious. It was so incongruous, to her. To her he was always a little boy.

"Michael, listen to me. Please. You two are hurting each other."

Michael looked away. He didn't want to listen to this, of course. He had to be made to listen.

"I'm telling you, Michael. Don't date other women, not even once. It's a mistake. It was stupid to agree. Don't do it. It would hurt Mona too much. And if she ever dated anyone it would hurt you, too, and you know it."

Michael still wouldn't look her in the eye.

"But I don't think she actually ever will, so stop worrying."

Michael stared at her again, with that same air of detached inspection. Melanie didn't know if it was a lack of trust on his part, or if this was something that he simply didn't want to hear, at least not from her. His expression was so cold.

"Please stop interfering."

Melanie withdrew her hand from his.

"You should never have even discussed it. Tell her you won't. Tell her she shouldn't."

"So what are we supposed to do? Where else do we go from here?"

"I just don't want to see you two getting hurt. You lived through enough years of pain with your bitchy ex-wife. You had enough vacant love. And I don't think Mouse has ever had anything but emptiness."

Michael kept staring at her. Mel stared back, unblinking, totally confident and secure in what she was thinking and saying. She knew it sounded strange, coming from her, but she was right.

"Until now, Michael. Until you."

"Have you forgotten that she's our sister, Mel? My sister? Remember? Incest?"

Melanie quickly looked around the restaurant. She knew no one was likely to hear, but the word panicked her. It was so easy to forget where she was when she was talking to Michael. She got too attached, too involved. She got too into him.

Which was why he should listen to her. Mel knew Michael better than Michael knew himself. He had no idea how well Mel knew him, how much attention she'd paid to him throughout their lives.

She hesitated one more moment, to disguise her panic, while still trying to slyly glance around the bar for ease droppers.

"Sh. You don't have to be so open about it. Yes, I remember. Believe me, I remember."

"Why? Why do you want us together, now?"

"Because."

Michael glared at her.

"I'm not the prude you think I am, Michael. I'm not even close."

"It's incest, Mel."

"Sh. You actually know very little about me, Little Brother. You were always too wrapped up in yourself, and Mouse, to really notice me."

"That's not true."

"Look, I know what it's like to feel that way about someone. I know what it's like to lose control."

"Lose control."

Melanie glared at him, but he was purposely looking away across the bar.

"Michael, you wouldn't be doing this, you and Mouse wouldn't be doing any of this, if there wasn't something there. I'll admit, it scares me. It scares the hell out of me, because it's so wrong. It's such a very bad idea. But I've never seen anything like it. Dan and I had a wild sex life once upon a time. We were unstoppable. But we were nothing like you two."

"It's not just the sex, Mel."

"I know that, Michael. I know that. That's my point. If it were just the sex, the evil, wicked, twisted..."

Mel hesitated. She lowered her voice even as she emphasized the next word.

"...incestuous sex, you would both have gotten bored long ago. It would never have gone this far. The fact is, the thought disgusts me, every time I let myself think about it. So I don't. I don't know how you two can do what you do. But you don't seem to remotely mind, and neither does she."

Michael opened his mouth to retaliate. She didn't allow it.

"In fact, I take that back. It's not that you don't mind. You bask in it. You both wallow in it. You even glorify it. That's Mouse, but it's not you. I expect that from her, not you. You don't enjoy things just because you're not supposed to. Which means to last this long, it's more than that, for you."

She finally paused to let Michael speak. He started to, then halted, choosing instead to take a long, time consuming swig from his beer bottle. Melanie continued.

"And it's more for her, too. I can feel the connection there, Michael. It scares me, but it's there. It's like Dan and I. And it's something I don't think you and your wife ever actually had."

He glared at her again. She was startled by the thud of his bottle being replaced none too gently on the table. She was crossing all sorts of boundaries this time. He always hated reminders of her, and judgements of their marriage. Melanie had never approved, and the way it turned out proved her right.

The mention of it always, easily made him angry, but she never seemed to learn.

That stung. She didn't want him to be angry at her. That was one thing she could never, ever take. He didn't get angry often, or easily, but when he did, when it was directed at her, it pained her.

Their whole lives, Melanie had always apologized to Michael. He never once had to say he was sorry to her, because she couldn't stand for one moment having him angry with her.

"Look, Michael, I'm sorry. Let's just drop it. I'm sorry. I just thought you should know how I feel, what I thought. I didn't think you'd react this way."

She expected, feared, that he would rip into her then, for being so intrusive. Instead he abruptly mellowed.

Even when he angered, he often quickly backed off. Another woman might see that as weakness, but Melanie saw it as a strength. It was even sexy, the way Michael could soften his mood, the way he cared enough about what other people thought and felt to control himself when he could more easily let his own emotions take over and spin out of control.

Michael was just someone that didn't like being angry. He looked down at the label on his bottle, not unexpectedly looking more than a little guiltily.

"I know, Mel. I'm sorry, too. It's just all so very strange. I never expected to live my life like this."

Mel looked softly at his lips, watching the sad words tumble out. She'd never expected it either. No one ever expected to live their lives the way they did, she thought.

8> Organization

Lists. Melanie ran her life with them. She ran a lot of people's lives with them.

To do lists. Shopping lists. Vacation packing lists. Lists of priorities.

Right now she was making a shopping list, a simple, common thing to do. She started with the obvious things she knew they always needed, then added other things that were running low.

Milk. Bread. Cheese. Butter. Paper towels.

She made a mental list of what she'd make for dinner all week, then added any ingredients they didn't already have to the list.

Chicken. Salmon. Pesto. Sage.

When she got near the end, she stopped to think of things they didn't need, but things that she'd like to get.

Ice cream. Whipped cream. Chocolate sauce. Bailey's Irish Cream.

She needed to go to the liquor store, she realized. They were running low on some things there, too.

Rum. Scotch.

Her emotions fired up just thinking about the liquor. Her darker side quickly enveloped her. Reflecting her own growing frustration with her mundane lifestyle, she added more whimsical items to the list.

A kiss. A girl to kiss.