Mouse Bk. 07 Ch. 01

It had almost become a pet name for him, in a way, her own private pet name for him that no one else ever used.

"I was hoping to get some exercise, maybe play some basketball."

"You need it, Dork. We don't," Kate said, beating Mouse to it.

For an almost imperceptible moment Michael and Mouse both froze, but Mouse sensed it, and she was sure Michael had, too. Michael was aghast that Kate had adopted the term, probably afraid that he'd never shed it.

Mouse was pissed that she'd stolen her private property. Kate was stealing a lot of things from her.

Maybe she should break this up.

"Speaking of exercise... Michael says you dance a lot. I mean real dance, not just clubbing."

"Yeah, it's one of my things. Do you dance?"

"Not since I was young. I used to do like seven classes at a time. Then I broke my ankle when I turned sixteen, which gave me time for boys, and I never went back."

"It's a shame. We could have put a number together."

"We could still go out dancing one night. Michael hates it."

Mouse looked at Michael, thinking, yes, she already knew that, and was grateful he hadn't made an exception for Kate when he wouldn't for her. She also thought that they were close enough that it wasn't just lunches and dinners they were doing together. Kate pushed it hard enough to ask him out dancing.

"We should. I'd like that," she said, still looking at Michael. She grinned at him as he melted further into his seat, totally defeated and demoralized.

"Oh, shit," Kate said, looking at her watch. "I forgot, I have a hair appointment in thirty minutes. Shit, I clean forgot. Look, I'm sorry, I've got to run..."

Don't let the door hit you, Mouse started to think, then bit it back. She didn't really think it. She liked the fucking girl, she really did.

"Well, call me. I'm staying with Michael," she said, honestly smiling. "Dancing sounds like fun. And I'd like to get to know you better."

Kate smiled enchantingly at her, obviously pleased by the request. She put her hand on Mouse's on the table before replying.

"I'd like that, too. Let's do it."

She pulled her hand away to give Michael a small, childlike wave.

"Okay, well, I've gotta go."

With that Kate turned and Mouse watched her retreat, studying her body as she walked away, while covertly watching Michael trying not to watch Kate, too.

"We should go, too," she said, not wanting to give Michael a chance to discuss anything.

They took a short while to settle the bill, and then left in silence.

* * *

As they walked out into the bright sunlight, Michael strode rather deliberately to their car. He seemed not quite angry, but she'd clearly put him into a bad, or at least somber, mood. Mouse scurried behind, trying to keep up, and hurt that he didn't walk side by side with her.

Mouse noticed Kate sitting in her car at the back of the lot. It was peculiar. She'd left some time ago. She seemed to be hunting through her bag, as if she'd lost something. Michael, so lost in his own moping thoughts, hadn't seemed to notice her.

Impulsively, before he could enter the car, Mouse moved to his side, to stand face to face with him.

Mouse took a deep breath. She reached up with her arms, looping them around Michael's taut neck muscles, scratching her exploring finger nails teasingly up along his bald scalp, as she aggressively pulled herself up to him. For his part, he didn't flinch as she pulled her lips up to his. Somehow, at this moment, she felt that he would never resist, or resent, being kissed by her, ever again.

Their lips met with all of their usually electricity. Michael soon pulled her diminutive form against his own. His hands slipped down as they often did, to cup her ass, using the leverage to pull her up to his level.

Mouse pushed with one foot, forcing Michael to spin with her a quarter turn, in place, and pushing him against the side of the car, giving Kate a very good view of the performance. Now Kate couldn't miss it. If she was at all looking up, and she would be, she would now be watching Michael give his little sister the most passionate and clearly sexual kiss that Kate had ever seen.

Mouse felt decidedly wicked.

Now she'd know what sort of a man Michael was, and what he and Mouse meant to each other.

<8 Boundaries

Mouse sat curled into a tight ball on the sofa, feet up, knees to her chin, with her cell phone sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She'd told Paul that she'd call him, and she'd intended to. But now, here, in Michael's house, with Michael away at work, it felt wrong. It felt like cheating on him.

That was sick, she told herself. She was just calling a friend. Just because she'd fantasized about Paul, and just because he'd tried to turn it into reality, that didn't make it cheating. She was just following through on a promise.

The phone was right there, right on the table, separated from her by the small gap between the sofa and the table. All she had to do was to reach out and grab it. Just cross that one small boundary, take the phone, and make the call.

That was how she lived her life, she realized, by crossing boundaries. Everyone had them. Society made them. People made them. Work and needs and responsibilities made them. Family made them. Life was all about living within boundaries.

And Mouse was an expert at crossing them. She did what she want, when she wanted. She crossed the line. She made her own line, and sometimes she crossed that one, too.

The phone vibrated on the table. She didn't even have to look. Paul was calling her.

Mouse had to learn to live within boundaries. Maybe not everyone's, but she had to make her own. She had to set limits, and learn to stop crossing the line whenever the whim took her.

She stared at the phone, as if magically willing it to stop. Eventually it did.

It wasn't about her and Paul. It was a little about boundaries. But it was mostly about Michael.

She was bad for him. In her heart, she knew it. It wasn't that she couldn't live within boundaries. She couldn't, but that wasn't the problem. The problem was that he could, and should, and she kept dragging him over the line. She was keeping him on her side of the line, and it wasn't where he belonged.

He deserved to be happy, and Mouse was keeping him from that.

<8 Future

For an instant, Mouse was a child again. The table was covered with papers, which in turn were stained with row after row and column after column of confusing, frustrating numbers. Digits swam everywhere in a sea of paper, like swarms of schools of little fish that were impossible to snare in a net with far too many holes in it.

She sat with Michael, at the kitchen table, going over financial statements and money market portfolios and such. It bored Mouse to death, but Michael insisted that she needed to get her finances in order. She needed to start saving for the future.

It was just like doing math. It was just like that day, when she was ten. Michael had helped her with her math homework back then. He had been patient, and totally confident, just as he was right now. He exuded a calm strength that she found simply irresistible.

Mouse smiled to herself. That had been the day, the one day. That had been that the day she'd decided she was going to marry him.

She looked at his hands, moving over the table, searching through the stacks of papers for something he wanted to show her.

"It's here somewhere. Just give me a minute. It's a more conservative fund. You need growth, because you're young, but you want to have some money in something a little more stable, just in case the economy really tanks again."

Just like back then, she really didn't hear a word he'd said. She mostly listened to his voice as if it were music. She didn't hear the words, just the tone and the timbre and the melody. She experienced his voice more than she listened to it.

She watched his hands. They were so insanely masculine. Even when she was ten, before she knew what sexy was, she thought they were sexy. Mouse had always found a man's hands exciting, but Michael's hands made her feel warm and nervous, both at once. She couldn't watch his hands without getting wet.

Mouse shifted position in her seat. She wasn't ten any more. She was a woman. When she was ten, she sat there shyly, waiting for him to give her an excuse to furtively touch his hands. Now she was a woman. She didn't need an excuse.

Mouse reached over to grasp Michael's hand. He started to pull it away, to reach for a paper, so she held him more tightly. He looked at her then, with that calm, warm, confident look. A small smile played over his lips.

"I need to show you that statement."

Mouse didn't smile. She stood up, keeping his hand in hers. She didn't ever want to let it go. She moved beside him, holding his hand, to kiss the top of his sweet, smooth, bald head. She sat in his lap, still holding his hand, looking into his eyes.

She wasn't ten any more. She kissed, hard and deeply, like no sister should ever kiss her brother. She kissed him as if she might never kiss him again, and she had to pack every bit of passion she had left in her body into this one stolen moment. She lost herself in his lips, and the feel of his hand in hers, and the sense that she was so small and alone, but he was there, big and strong and patient and confident, to take care of her.

She wasn't a little girl anymore, and she was. She wanted to be one. She wanted him to want to, and to have to, take care of her forever.

<8 Stealing

"I fucking love the way you dance," Kate screamed right into her ear, with the words barely being audible above the deafening music. The touch of her right hand was beyond merely warm, from dancing amidst the crowded club. Her fingers held Mouse's shoulder ever so gently to keep her close and still, for a moment, to hear what she had to say. Once the words were conveyed, she eased back, to smile laughingly at Mouse and put more energy into her own dancing.

Mouse smiled contentedly to herself. She rather liked the way Kate moved her body, too. Not as good as Mouse, but the little slut definitely had some good, smooth, melodic gyrations in her. Her body was small, and tight, like Mouse's, and Kate could make it undulate well.

The night was turning out to be annoyingly too much fun. Kate was witty and vibrant, and at times hysterically funny. She was like the wild sister Mouse had never had, the sister Melanie should have been, if they'd been closer in age, and temperament.

Four much too young but cute guys along one wall were ogling them openly and shamelessly, and had been for quite some time. Mouse imagined she could see sparkles of light glinting off the drool on their chins as the flashing multi-colored strobe dance lights played over them all. Kate and Mouse had made a very deliberate sport of teasing them for quite some time.

She ramped it up again.

Mouse writhed and sauntered away with the beat, and then back to Kate. She thrust her chest right up to her dance partner's, staring straight into her eyes, as she brushed her tits left and right across Kate's, while Kate took her cue, doing the same in the opposite direction. Both of their breasts jiggled ever so slightly as they flicked against and over each other.

They laughed naughtily as they did it, reveling in their game.

For a moment Mouse closed her eyes, actually enjoying the titillating feel of Kate's body against hers. Both of their pairs of nipples, Mouse's and Kate's, sported dense erections, poking nicely out of their matching skin tight mini dresses, one day glow green, the other day glow orange. Kate had loaned Mouse hers so they could make a splash together, as a couple.

Just by wearing them, they'd gotten a lot of stares. And that was before they'd started to dance.

Mouse was sure the guys enjoyed the sight of their hard nipples jutting out, stretching the fabric. Mouse enjoyed their nipple erections even more. She felt a delicious charge each time one of her own nipples touched Kate's, caught, then flicked away, all in the midst of their far too sexual dance.

Mouse found it so exciting she actually had to will herself into backing away, gyrating and writhing in rhythm with the beat, to end the tormenting show. She thought that Kate's eyes showed some regret, too, when she left her with too much space between them.

Mouse put her soul back into dancing. Her head fell down, letting her long hair dangle, hips rotating smoothly, with her bare arms up high, swaying, as she continued to sensuously move for anyone that dared to watch.

* * *

"God, that club is so tacky," Kate giggled as they approached her small red coup at the shadowy end of the parking lot.

"Shit, yeah. I can't believe I used to go there all the time, before I left town. Fuck, that was so many years ago. I didn't remember it being that lame."

"Where to now?"

"It's getting late," Mouse said.

"Oh, no. I don't want to stop."

"It's a small town in the middle of lots of small towns. There's not a lot more to do."

Kate moved up close to Mouse, very close.

"We could think of something fun."

Kate's voice had dropped an octave, adopting a more somber tone.

Mouse considered how alone they were, in the dark parking lot. Kate couldn't be conscious of that. She couldn't be thinking that.

Mouse suddenly felt uneasy. She looked around. They were very alone. She could feel Kate staring at her. She couldn't make herself turn her head to stare back.

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" Kate asked, but her tone was seductively dishonest. She obviously knew, and didn't care, how it made Mouse feel.

Mouse snapped her eyes back to Kate's. They were a colorless gray in the dark night. The darkness of the night masked the sparse freckles on her cheeks, too. Her nose, unlike Mouse's, was a small, petite, button. Kate's lips were a mirror of her own, small, sharing the same pink lip gloss they had chosen. Her very blond hair fell like short, stolen beams of moonlight straight down onto her shoulders.

Kate eased in even closer. Mouse refused to move. She refused to back down. But she felt a tremble in her voice that made her afraid to answer.

"I saw you kiss him," Kate said.

Mouse kept her expression stolid.

Kate's lips touched hers, like a feather drifting by, no more.

"It was exciting," she breathed, then kissed Mouse again, longer, and with more pressure.

Mouse remained very purposefully still as Kate peppered her lips with soft, light kisses. Kate's body, until now separated from hers by a sheet of cool night air, eased against her, breast touching breast as softly as her first kiss.

Mouse parted her lips, ever so slightly.

It was the only invitation Kate needed. Mouse was soon pressed against the door of the car. Kate's body was mashed hard against her own, nipples pressing against flesh in a way that had been denied all night on the dance floor, as their tongues slowly and methodically twirled around and around and around.

Kate broke the kiss for a moment, to issue a short, breathless plea.

"Not like that. Show me how you kiss your brother."

As soon as she finished her excited command, their lips were entwined again. Kate's small hands pressed against Mouse's thighs, then slipped behind her to cup and pull her ass, just as Michael had. Almost unconsciously, Mouse let her own hands slip up behind Kate's back, up to her head, to let her fingers dance under her hair the way they had against Michael's scalp.

Mouse did as she asked, and kissed her back, with passion and lust and clear, sexual fire, pretending for a moment that she was kissing Michael.

When the kiss ended, Kate arched her back to lean away, while her hips kept Mouse firmly pinned to the car, and her hands still gripped her ass tightly.

"Fuck," she said, rolling her eyes, then looking into Mouse's. "Fuck, no wonder your own brother kisses you. Fuck."

Kate was on her again, and Mouse ardently returned her favors. As Mouse let her hands slide down to Kate's firm ass, Kate was a step ahead of her, now moving her hands inward and up to Mouse's tits. Mouse shuddered at the unexpectedly aggressive touch, moaning in excited response.

Kate broke the kiss to stare at her yet again, while she massaged Mouse's small breasts. Mouse held her gaze as she moved her own hands to mirror Kate's, kneading her pert breasts in harmony.

"Does he touch you like this? Do you let your brother touch your titties?"

Mouse ignored the question, leaning forward instead to silently beg another deep kiss, which Kate quickly, obligingly relinquished to her.

Unwilling to let Kate control everything, Mouse raced to ratchet up the contact before her partner. Both women simultaneously used one hand to fumble at lifting the hems of their short dresses. Each eagerly discovered that neither had warn panties, and that the flesh of their pussies was hot, and wet. Mouse was clean shaven. Kate, she noted, was not.

They moaned softly together as their fingers eased their way with teasing patience into soft, moist, yielding flesh.

Mouse broke the kiss to look into Kate's face, to watch her reaction to the sensations. They moved their hands slowly, consciously matching each other's explorations, move for move, touch for touch. Mouse brushed one hand over Kate's clit, to feel the same done to her. She slipped a single nail down the edge of one cunt lip, feeling Kate's nail tracing a mirror path down her own.

Mouse hooked her index finger to push it up into Kate, as Kate found her own most tender of spots, inside and behind her clitoris, then applied a growing pressure. Mouse inhaled sharply, as Kate shuddered visibly.

"Does he fuck you, Mona? Does your brother fuck you?" Kate asked accusingly.

Mouse bit her lip, fighting back her own urge to say it out loud, to tell Kate that yes, her brother fucked her mercilessly. She wanted to tell her. She wanted her to know that Michael was hers, totally and completely, right or wrong, and that Kate should back off.

"You don't know how big and hard his cock is, do you?" Kate continued.

Yes, Mouse thought, yes, she did. Her body shuddered with Kate's finger inside her, so small and inconsequential compared to Michael's cock, yet finding ways to please her anyway.

"He won't even kiss me. Is it because of you?" Kate asked.

With the question, Kate aggressively added a second finger beside the first, moving them more feverishly, trying to push Mouse closer to orgasm, and maybe closer to answering her. She was succeeding. Her teasing questions, along with her teasing penetration, where driving Mouse crazy.

Mouse followed suit, trying to keep up, trying now to stop Kate's exciting, probing questions simply by driving them from her mind with pleasure.

"Is that why he won't kiss me, Mona? Because he loves to fuck his little sister?"

A tremor started in Mouse's hips, quickly traveling through her body. She squealed at the sensation.

Feeling like she had completely lost control of herself and events, Mouse changed gears. She used her free hand to pull Kate into another kiss, this one spiced by the feel of her invasive fingers threatening to trigger an early orgasm. In the midst of the kiss, Mouse caught Kate by surprise, slipping out of her grasp and out from between her and the car.

Kate eyed her with a look of disappointment.

"Let's go to your place to discuss this," Mouse told her.

Kate smiled wryly as she pulled out her keys.

"Get in."

* * *

As Kate drove, Mouse had second thoughts. It had been easy in the dark lot, almost impossible to resist, after the heat of the dancing, and the drinks, with all of the men watching and blatantly lusting after them both, with testosterone so thick in the air it was like a visible fog. It was easy to get carried away.