Snake Charm

"She's my sister."

Charlie stared at his wife, Angie, for a long moment. "Your plan is for her to come here from prison. Straight from prison. Do not pass go." He shifted uncomfortably. "No... adjustment period. You don't think it'll be..."

"Dangerous?" Angie shifted in bed next to him and her silky golden hair cascaded across her bare shoulder. "Chuckie, she's always been dangerous. That's why she was in prison." She saw him open his mouth again, and she quickly dipped in to kiss it shut. She pulled back, her eyes dancing. "But Demi's never been dangerous to me. And you saw how she absolutely gushed over Nicky when she was a toddler; she adores her niece.

"Nicky is eighteen now." Charlie ignored the Chuckie for the moment. He knew that Angie only used the nickname when she was amused with him. Or exasperated. She had the worst tells ever.

Angie narrowed her eyes. "What are you saying?"

Charlie flushed. "...I mean... It's prison... you know what it's like. What it does to people..."

"No, I know what TV and movies say it does to people." Angie rolled over on top of him, pressing her naturally generous breasts, more than generous, honestly, into his chest. His one weakness. One of his weaknesses. Whatever. "And I know my sister. Demi didn't become some... deviant. I visited her a lot over the last thirteen years. She's still the sweet girl that came to my defense in that shithole neighborhood we used to live in. Hell, she still loves cartoons about princesses! I honestly think the only thing she wants when she comes here is to do a damn Disney marathon!"

Charlie had to laugh at the image of a hardened criminal gushing over pastel damsels in distress... and to groan as his wife began squirming on top of him. "Alright, alright. I get it. I'm an ass." He grinned impishly. "You win. So... speaking of asses..."

She gasped in mock outrage as he slapped her taut rump with both hands and squeezed. "I do not do hours of crunches and squats a week just to be your plaything, mister!" She reached down and slid a hand onto his diamond-cutting cock. "I also run thirty miles... that makes me your plaything."

"My supermodel wife." Charlie couldn't stop smiling. "Well, without the modeling."

"I am plenty super, though. Good to hear you say it." Angie began slithering down his body. "And good that you came to see the light about family. I guess good boys deserve rewards... Chuckie."

Charlie laughed, already forgetting his trepidation as his wife of twenty years, the mother of his pride and joy, the woman who seemed to never age, did things to him that he was sure he'd have to pay extra for if he was anywhere else.

Let Demi come to stay for a few weeks. Maybe the jailbird would benefit from being in a warm, loving home for a time. It would probably turn her life around. Charlie felt real damn good about himself in that moment. Real good.

"Demi!"

Angie had no shame whatsoever when the woman before them walked out past the rolling prison gate towards their waiting vehicle. Charlie watched his wife sprint to her sister and leap into her arms for a hug that would do a boa constrictor proud, all right in front of the officers that looked on with highly bemused expressions.

"Ange, my girl! You... you..." Demi, after pulling back to allow herself a chance to breathe, stared into Angie's green eyes, arms still loosely wrapped around her, while her own grew incredibly moist.

"Did you think I was lying about being here to pick you up?" Angie hugged her sister tight again, then finally stepped back. "I've never lied to you."

"Never doubted you for a second, my girl." Demi, her goofy grin not lessened in the slightest, looked past her little sis towards Charlie. "Chuckie! God it's good to see you too!" She walked up to him and gave him a sock on the arm. "Even though I should be mad. Too good to visit your sister-in-law in the slammer, huh?"

Charlie's mouth opened and closed, and Demi just laughed. "Look at you! I'm only screwin' with ya. You know I love you, man. Bring it on in." Without waiting, the woman pulled him in for his turn at hugs.

God, she could twist me in a knot. That was his first thought at feeling Demi's ropy arms around him. Prison had done quite a number on her. He still remembered an angry, chubby ball-breaker of over a decade ago when he thought of her; not this toned, defined willow of a woman. She must have put some dedicated time into the exercise yard, because she was on the cusp of being outright muscular. Not like one of those obsessive types who felt the need to sacrifice their femininity for bulk, though. She still looked... good. Real good. Charlie took her in while trying to be subtle. The still-vibrant red hair, the prison-issued tank-top that accentuated a good, healthy rack... not in the same league as her sister, of course, but the pair looked perfect on her lithe frame. She seemed taller than he remembered too, maybe because she was much more vertical than horizontal now. A good ratio all around.

She's... hot. No two ways about it. She must have been quite popular in there. Maybe passed around like a commodity...

"So where is she?" Demi began scanning the area. "Where's my... there you are kiddo!" Demi threw her arms wide as the door of the minivan slid open behind the three of them.

Nicky stepped gingerly out then, wide-eyed like she was being targeted by a hunter. Charlie watched his daughter, and though always dumbfounded that such a beauty could come from any contribution of his, now he was especially struck by the look of her. Like a mix of them, really. Never noticed before. Thick, strawberry-blonde hair, shining green eyes, the dainty nose, and even the birthmark by her eye that made her look like she was crying in the right light... Nicky was the spitting image of both Angie and Demi, proof some strong genes. That birthmark especially, so much like the one Demi had next to her mouth, and Angie had on her cheek.

He wasn't the only one who noticed. "Nicolette... I'd ask if you remember your old auntie, but damn, you just gotta look in the mirror to get reminded."

On the ride over, Nicky had started out excited to see the fun aunt she had wispy memories of from when she was five, then a bit angst-filled as the two-hour ride rolled by. Would Aunt Demi remember her? Was Aunt Demi even the same person who gave her treats at every chance? Was Aunt Demi a good person? Would Aunt Demi care about her now that she was pretty much all grown? Angie spent the entire trip reassuring her daughter that things were going to be just great.

Now, old Aunt Demi lifted the skinny girl by the waist and spun her like she was five again, and wouldn't you know it, Nicky squealed with delight. "Aunt Demi! You're gonna make me puke!"

Demi took one more spin before she put Nicky down, then dramatically rubbed her lower back. "Oof. Nicolette... you may be a slip of a thing still, but you got big where it counts." She openly pointed at the rather generous amount of cleavage that Charlie's daughter insisted on displaying ever since she turned eighteen. Another gift from her mother, and in more than just the genes. It was one of Charlie and Angie's few fights; his wanting his little girl to stay nice and chaste, and she wanting to let their grown daughter express herself. Of course, he lost, and now he had to live with his child's tits practically busting out of every shirt she decided to put on.

Demi's brazen assessment actually put some color in Nicky's cheeks. Charlie had to admit, he approved of a bit of embarrassment on his kid's part ... or did for a bit. Demi wasn't stopping there, though.

"I mean... look at you! All your mom's looks already. How many hearts you breaking on a daily basis? I bet guys and girls are laying up at night, thinking of you," she winked, "right after they finish—"

"Demi! I imagine you want to get to a nice bath and see where you'll be sleeping!" Charlie shouted much louder than necessary. All three women gave him a longsuffering look. "What? Don't stare at me like that. It's a long ride home, and—"

"Chuckie's right. I can't wait to get out of these shitty clothes and into something soft." She wasted no more time in jumping into the minivan, crawling right into the back seat and patting the space next to her. "C'mon, Nicolette. Sit next to me and tell me all about the last thirteen years. I got all the time in the world with your old folks, so this will be for just you and me."

And that's the way the ride back went. Angie and Charlie up front while Nicky and Demi sat hip-to-hip in the back, thick as thieves with their whispering and giggling. Demi must have been fascinating, or at least told some very colorful stories, because Nicky hung on her every word, and just on her. The two women nudged and poked each other the entire trip, with Demi seeming to forget how old her niece was from time-to-time and engaging in quick bouts of rib-tickling to punctuate something she'd just said that left Nicky particularly aghast.

Charlie probably spent just as much time watching the rearview as he did the road. To her credit, Demi never seemed to take it too far, or too inappropriate, beyond infantilizing a girl nearly at the end of her teenage years. It was just... weird. As weird as he was afraid it was going to be.

"They called you what?" Nicky gasped. "The Snake? Sounds like a bad movie, Auntie. Why that nickname?"

"Gotta be 'cause I'm such an Axl Rose fan." Demi smirked mysteriously.

"It's fine, Charlie." Angie whispered and reached over to put a comforting hand on his leg. "Let them get it out of their systems now, and we'll have a great time together. As a family. You've been so good so far," the comforting hand travelled north, "I think another reward might be coming tonight."

Charlie eased while tensing all at the same time. "Well... when you put it that—"

"You're so dirty, Aunt Demi!" Nicky shrieked inadvertently at something she heard, then covered her mouth and looked at her parents. She tried to keep the giggles in, but lost that battle after only a second, and the two in the far backseat burst out laughing.

"Oh yeah... gonna need that reward, love. Gonna reeeeallly need it." Charlie gave his wife his own longsuffering look.

The grand tour of the house was quick, since there was not much to show. Charlie and his women lived well; a standard three bedroom, two bath, two story house, solid upper-middle class, but it was hardly a mansion.

"So... I hate to say it, Demi, but you'll be on the pullout." Angie looked chagrined at having to stoop so low to accommodate her older sister. "The extra room got stripped out years ago to make room for my exercise stuff. We got the best couch though, and you won't even know it's not—"

Demi just guffawed and pulled Angie in for yet another long hug. "My girl, you don't have to sell me on anything. Is it a lumpy mattress that might be filled with meth? No? Then it's pure paradise. Besides, Ange, you should never apologize for keeping up your body. In the end, it's all we got. Bet it's gone a long way towards keeping your marriage healthy... right Chuckie?" She slapped him on the back, hard, once she extricated herself from her sister.

"Can't complain." Charlie smiled patiently. "Besides, how much will you be using the couch anyway? Between the giant in-ground pool to relax in, and the, um... job hunting..." He cleared his throat. "All your time will be elsewhere anyway."

"Pool? Demi's eyes lit up. "I gotta see this." She ran out to the back yard to gaze at their big pain-in-the-ass. The pool that Angie and Nicky begged for, then stopped using other than the few times they had a party. It did have a Jacuzzi attached, which was nice.

"Goddamn, you finally got the dream, Ange." Demi looked from Angie to Charlie. "Growing up in our shithole, we always thought that a pool was the ultimate sign of success. And you gave it to her. Good on you, Chuckie."

Charlie was touched. "Well, she deserves... holy shit."

Demi had nonchalantly peeled off her tank top to display her firm breasts to the world in all their braless glory, and was in the process of stepping out of her jeans, revealing a matching set of non-underwear.

"Cover your eyes!" Angie hissed and put her hand over his face.

"You're worried about me?" Charlie sputtered in indignation. "I'm not the one who's—"

"Look, just... go into my closet and get a bikini for her." Angie sighed. "That'll solve both problems."

It made sense, sort of, so Charlie agreed and trudged inside, resisting the urge to peek out a widow once or twice when he heard the splash of someone enjoying the pool. This is dumb. Angie's suits will be falling off Demi anyway. When he got back, having picked out the smallest one he could find, his jaw dropped. In his brief absence, Nicky had joined them, wearing one of her more fashionable, and skimpier, bikinis, like she'd been planning it.

Demi and Nicky were in the pool together now, playing and bouncing and splashing and laughing and touching and...

"Eh, never mind." Angie saw her bikini hanging in Charlie's limp fingers. "Damage is done." She kissed him on the cheek. "Why don't you grill us up some dinner? Some of your burgers would be fantastic for us once they get this out of their system."

Numbly, he went, trying to get the image of his innocent daughter and her smoking hot, naked, prison-molded aunt carrying on like kids on spring break out of his head.

It was a long evening.

That night, Charlie got up to take a piss, as had been an annoyingly increasing habit lately. It was nearly pitched black, so he had to bump his way down the hall to the bathroom, but it did allow him to easily see a light on at the bottom of the stairs. Curious, he moved down there, and stopped in the living room to take a look at the pullout. The empty pullout with the barely disheveled sheets. Where the hell is Demi?

The light was coming from the kitchen, so he went there to try to clear things up, thinking that Demi must have had the midnight munchies. Problem was, it was Angie he saw, standing behind the island in the middle, dressed in the filmy, nearly see-through bra and panties she'd worn to bed as a reward for him before collapsing into a disappointing, exhausted stupor. She was now braced on the counter with both hands, looking down at some papers laid out there.

"Angie?" He hadn't even noticed when she got out of bed. "What's up?"

"Charlie?" He'd startled her, and she squinted at him. "You tell me. I'm just checking on something I didn't get a chance to earlier."

"Taking a piss." He pointed at the couch. "Where Demi?" Now he narrowed his eyes at her, then turned his head to look towards Nicky's room at the end of the hall.

Angie caught it and frowned. "I know that look. What are you thinking? Please tell me you're not back on that again..."

Charlie threw up his hands. "No, no. Sorry. I'm sure she's walking, or something. Getting used to the freedom and stuff. I'll just finish my piss." He rubbed his eyes. "Coming back to bed?"

"Soon as I'm done." She smiled. "Get some sleep. You still have work in the morning." She let out a tired breath and bowed her head, going back to her task.

He shuffled away then to finish his, shaking his head all the while. Never did get my reward.

The next days were a slog for him. Work was long, always, but longer knowing that his family was having fun without him. He'd come home at night and see Demi on the couch with Nicky, huddled under a blanket, watching Disney movies, just like his wife had claimed. It was strangely wholesome and concerning in a vague way that he tried to ignore. He'd promised Angie he'd be less disgustingly paranoid.

Sometimes it was even Angie and Demi together, bonding again after so long. One night, he got changed real quick and plopped himself down on a chair near the couch to spend some time with them. They were watching one of the newer ones that he'd never bothered to see. Something with a young girl trapped somewhere, just like every other one. The sisters were in a heated discussion on the philosophy behind that particular piece of art.

"You're wrong, Ange. She owes that old bitch."

"Owes? She's a captive, Dem. I think you're missing the spirit entirely."

"Sure, the kid deserves better... but that other one saved the girl. Protected her. She deserves something too."

Angie shifted under the blanket that they both shared and stared a long time at her older sister. Finally she laid her head on Demi's shoulder. "I hear you. You're not wrong."

Charlie wasn't the cleverest man in the world, but he got the subtext. They were finally poking the reason that Demi went to prison. It wasn't complicated; there was an asshole that used to live in the neighborhood that took an abnormal liking to Angie and Nicky years and years ago. It went too far once, and Demi took it on herself to teach the freak a lesson. One that he didn't actually learn, because he didn't survive. The judge was kind enough, but Demi still lost over a decade of her life for protecting her little sister, and apparently she was finally reminding Angie of it.

Charlie felt distinctly out of place right then, so excused himself and to let the two work it out. From the kitchen, he could hear them talk, and laugh, then finally get quiet once Nicky came home and joined them. It seemed to work out well, and he was glad. All in all, things were going better than he expected.

The next night was Halloween. Angie and Charlie had been invited to a costume party, so Demi volunteered to stay behind for the tick-or-treaters.

"No one needs their house egged, Chuckie, and it's time I start earning my keep." Demi told him this as she exited the bathroom after having changed into her own outfit; a little red devil number that was apt, because it was temptation itself. More bands and straps than any actual covering, it showcased her admirable physique incredibly well.

"What's your plan, to scare all the moms instead of the kids?" Charlie forced himself to look anywhere else.

"Moms love me. Always have." Demi winked for some reason. "You're not begrudging me a little fun, are you? Outfits like this weren't exactly allowed in the joint, you know. Need to stretch my legs a bit."

A pair like that deserved some stretching, he had to admit. "Far be it from me to try to avoid a scandal. Anyway, Nicky will be here after school to help. Just... please try not to embarrass her too much."

"Chuckie, Chuckie." Demi gave him an affable pat on the arm. "You know she's the reason I made it through thirteen years of hell. She's safe in my hands, trust me."

That night, his post-party bladder made a puppet of him once more. Angie was sleeping her own indulgence off next to him still, so he crept out as quietly as he could. This time, his interruption wasn't in the form of a noise, but a sound. The downstairs shower, to be precise. Letting curiosity best him again, he went down. This night, however, found Demi laying on the pullout. She had kicked the covers off and was fully exposed in the moonlight, and Charlie was able to take in every naked inch of her. The ripple of muscle, the crisp jut of her nipples, all covered with a sheen of sweat. Her face was covered with a pillow, but he could see that her breathing was steady. She must have gotten too hot, found some relief, and then drifted off again. Made sense.

His scrutiny distracted him from why he'd come down, but the shower shutting off and the bathroom door opening brought him back. He followed an impulse then and stepped into a deeper-shadowed part of the room and watched. The door creaked open and out stepped Nicky, wearing only a towel as she walked right through the living room, past the couch.